


Game Restart: New Platform

by Sukunami



Series: Game Restart [3]
Category: Final Fantasy VIII, Kingdom Hearts
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2009-07-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 12:30:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 91,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12817548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sukunami/pseuds/Sukunami
Summary: Leon learns from Sora that a teenager named 'Seifer' exists on one of the worlds created from 'The Divide' (crossover w/ Kingdom Hearts 2)





	1. Chapter 1

[Squall]

I'm just a little bit insane.  I don't know what the first clue may have been - the red wings meticulously painted onto my jacket in remembrance of the past, the seemingly unending obsession with bondage-like items, or the ease with which I can talk to three-foot-tall ducks that don't wear pants.  I suppose there were many signs of my mental illness, but the convincing factor has been my sudden ability to see a dark star in the middle of the night.  It didn't matter that I could also see it during the day and it was only slightly worrisome that no one else seemed to notice the ominous sign, but staring at a single black spot in the void of space and knowing exactly where it shines... something is definitely wrong with me.

"You pansy-assed fool, stop wavin' that wand near my stuff!" demands a gruff voice, its owner having no concept of volume.

"Well, I never.  See if I help you again," retorts an older, more controlled voice.

"Promises, fucking promises."

And as always, there are too many interruptions while I attempt to think.  Arms loosely crossed over my chest, I glance away from the window and the impossible dark star in the sky, reluctantly curious what damage could take place within this confined space and if I want to get involved.  The source of that disruption comes from the back corner of the disorganized house where the goggle-wearing, unshaven pilot named Cid types loudly at his computer and continues to grumble his curses at the practically immortal wizard.  Meanwhile, Merlin returns the favor in forms of huffing and puffing, the old man looking about ready to change into some fire-breathing creature, something that is more possible than I'd like to imagine.  Thankfully this house belongs to the bearded wizard and he has yet to get angry enough to destroy the place, though Cid has certainly been pressing his luck.

Laughter abruptly sounds, drawing my gaze to the table that doesn't quite touch the ground.  Sora, Donald, Goofy, and Yuffie all sit at the magic-infused table, unconcerned about their unstable situation as they dig into the dessert Aerith had made once hearing about our 'heroes' upcoming visit.  Looking at the kid of spiky hair and expressive blue eyes, it's difficult to see the keyblade master who is supposed to save this divided universe from destruction.  Hell, at least I was seventeen before Fate decided to place the world on my shoulders.  It just doesn't sit right to rely on a fifteen-year-old _boy_... but then again, I'm already crazy, so why not trust Sora to save us all?

"... And then Goofy says, 'Ya mean _'junior_ heroes,' Donald'," Sora says in a decent imitation of the large dog's voice.  "You should've seen the look Donald gave him!  I swore he was going to cast _Fira_ right then and there," the keyblade master describes while waving around his fork as an apparent visual of what the duck wanted to do.

As Donald crosses his arms tightly across his chest and sinks into his chair with a scowl, Yuffie and Aerith are easily caught up into Sora's amusement at the magic user's expense.  It's good to see how little has changed in the kid, that he still manages to smile despite everything he's gone through - changed into a heartless, trapped in an oversized egg and forced to sleep away a year of his life, and always one step behind the friends he misses.  It's either a sign of amazing strength or complete idiocy that he can still smile without reserve.

"Hey, Leon," Sora perks up once noticing that I was looking in their direction.  "Do you want the last piece?"

With hardly a glance at the slim pie piece oozing berries in dark sauce, I wave off the offer knowing that it would be tasteless in my mouth.  Not hiding his excitement over the refusal, Sora reaches out to claim the final slice of dessert, but Donald is just a bit faster as he pounds the edge of the tin to launch the pie piece into the air, and after a few impossible flips, the slice amazingly lands into the duck's mouth and he swallows it whole.  Donald's laugh is a vindictive one as Sora pouts at the loss of his third helping of dessert.

I shake my head at the antics, and with a spare thought about Zell and his bottomless stomach, I return my gaze to the window and the dark sky beyond.

"Don't worry so much, Leon," Sora says in his typical upbeat tone.  "Me, Donald, and Goofy will go to Twilight Town and figure out the deal behind that huge source of energy Chip and Dale keep talking about.  It's probably one of those Organization XIII guys causing trouble again."

My lips form a small frown as I realize that I probably should be concerned about the sudden appearance of an immense dark void beyond the world Sora calls 'Twilight Town'.  I should be helping to plan his voyage, but I instead I'm obsessing over a dark star in the sky.  What an amazing sense of priorities I have.

"Gawrsh, don't ya think Leon's scar looks familiar when he frowns like that?" Goofy asks in that pensive voice of his when he is making a dangerously observant comment.

Holding my body still despite the wrench of my heart, I glance casually in their direction and wait patiently for a more detailed explanation.

Sora abruptly snaps his fingers before pointing at me.  "That's right!  That jerk Seifer has a scar between his eyes, too.  But in the other direction," he says while furthering his point by drawing a line with his finger from his left eyebrow and down across the bridge of his nose.  Pulling away his hand, Sora frowns such that thin eyebrows furrow in thought.  "Huh, but don't you think it's strange that Seifer has a scar there when he doesn't even use a real blade?  He just has a Struggle bat from what I've seen."

Donald snickers in his patented fashion.  "He probably tried to use a sword and hurt himself."

Sora smiles broadly and nods.  "That sounds like something he'd do.  With all of his talk, you'd think he was the king of that place.  'Respect your elders,' he says.  He's, what, maybe a _year_ older than me?"

I push up from the wall a little too sharply, the move drawing the attention of almost everyone in the room.  I simply say, "Need fresh air," and walk for the door despite the worried looks from Sora and the girls.  Stepping outside into the thankfully cool evening air, I don't have to waste any effort on thought as my feet start on the path to the sewers where I could safely practice with Lion Heart and drive myself to state of no thoughts, no feelings, and eventual collapse when I could find some sleep tonight.

"Squall!"

Reluctantly coming to a halt, I sigh out a breath and turn to face the thief jogging after me.  No matter many times I remind Yuffie that I'm not going by that name anymore, it doesn't seem to stick.  At first it was a game to her, but after a few years of calling me by that worthless name, it has become a very inconvenient habit of hers.

Slowing as she approaches, she reflexively reaches out a consoling hand and places it at my shoulder.  "Hey, you don't look so hot.  Are you going to be okay?"

I shrug off her hand.  "I'm fine."

Yuffie frowns in a fashion that makes her appear a good five years younger.  "Don't you lie to me, Squall Leonhart.  Did you forget that we know the truth about you?  That you aren't like the rest of us?"

I scowl at her, wondering just how I _could_ forget that they know I'm not the Squall they 'remember'.  Radiant Garden was never my original home, which then leads to the painful consideration of what exactly _did_ happen to the man who inhabited this body before the The Divide.  I've come to the conclusion that there are two likely possibilities: either my soul overwhelmed the original 'Squall from Radiant Garden' and I unknowingly murdered that reflection of myself, or else all of this isn't real somehow and I'm one of the few who recognizes the truth that Radiant Garden never existed before The Divide.

"So, who's Seifer?" Yuffie asks as she places a fist on her hip.

"... ..."

"You had better answer or else I'll get Aerith out here and we both know that she'll drag the truth out of you.  And if I go get Aerith, Sora is going to know something is up and he'll walk out here with both Donald and Goofy.  And _then--_ "

"Enough," I surrender while rubbing the bridge of my nose, irritated by Yuffie's implied blackmail.  "It's nothing important.  If what Sora says is true, then Seifer isn't the person he was."

Her stern expression falters at my reply, something in my voice alerting her to the difficultly of this topic.  "Then he _is_ someone from the world you remember?"  When I don't argue, Yuffie smiles cheerfully and leans in far too close to ask, "But isn't that great news, then?  Someone from your own world finally appeared and you can go meet him!"

"It's not **_him_** ," I say too roughly, the force of my words knocking Yuffie back a step in surprise.  Damn it, even when that idiot isn't here he draws out the emotion in me.  In a more controlled tone, I explain, "Listen, Yuffie, this isn't the same as you and the others meeting with Cloud again.  You remembered Cloud from Radiant Garden before The Divide and were able to search for him.  But Seifer... He and I are from a crumbled world that no one remembers."

"Well, that doesn't mean he won't remember _anything_.  Whatever makes you different could be associated to your world and that would make him the same as you.  He could remember you!"

"Yuffie, it's not that simple.  He... Seifer was older than me before the shadows came."

Dark purple eyes scrunch in hard thought before snapping open in understanding.  "Oh!  And now he's only sixteen, right?  That means he's lost time and... and... oh."

When her voice trails off into guarded silence, I finish for her, "He most likely isn't the same person he was before The Divide."

"Oh, Squall," Yuffie says in true regret for my situation.  "I'm so sorry.  Is there anything we can do for you?"

"Give me some time alone," I reply even though it should be obvious that I would want some quiet time with my thoughts.

"Alright, but you know that Sora leaves tomorrow.  And if he and the others are successful, we may never see them again."

Hands clutched at my sides, I consider that reality and know that I can't pretend the boy doesn't mean _something_ to me.  There have been too many battles, too many times we've relied on each other that I can't shrug him off like a typical acquaintance.  "I'll come back in, but give me a moment."

While a flicker of doubt enters her eyes, Yuffie nods and begins jogging back to wizard's house.  "Don't take too long.  We're going to play games and Cid may 'accidentally' kill Merlin if you aren't there to stop him."

I grunt in acknowledgement of her insight and inwardly groan at the thought of games with this mismatched group.  Really, aren't we all too old for this by now?

Once Yuffie disappears into the house, I tug at the dark glove on my left hand and peal off the soft material to reveal overly pale skin and the soft shine of gold from my fourth finger.  After nearly seven years, the ring doesn't look too bad despite the scratches and no longer being completely circular.  With a gloved thumb, I rub the symbol of a cross sword and briefly recall Seifer's cautious face the day he presented it to me.  It feels like a dream anymore, or maybe a nightmare, to think about the past and the world that no longer exists.  One of these days, I may have to go to Olympus and ask the Fates what I did to deserve this unforgiving life.

"Hyne, I need a good fuck," I mutter to the ring, irritated that Cloud wasn't here to help me in that regard.  He'll return like he always does, but who knows how long it'll take this time.

With the sensation of being watched, I glance up into the ebony sky and look past the stars of holy light to locate something of darker intent.  Feeling wary and confused, I slip my glove back on with the need to shelter the ring from... from something.  And while that should've been the last sign that I was officially cracked in the head, I still had to wonder - what if I wasn't as crazy as I thought I was?

* * *

 

[Seifer]

"I'm telling ya, man, it's right _there_ ," I explain with a squinted eye and a finger pointed in the direction of the star-filled sky.  "It's a black star just beneath that constellation for that Greek hero guy.  Right next to his damned pigeon-toed foot.  How can you not see it?"

"Sorry, Seifer, but I don't see nothing.  It's impossible to see a black star at night, y'know?"

I scowl at the rare occurrence of Rai making sense while I'm raving like a lunatic, but no matter what this dimwit says, I know there is something out there.

"Nerves?"

My scowl deepening further, I glare at the petite girl of dark red eyes and silver hair that covers half of her face.  "I don't give a shit about that match tomorrow morning, Fuu.  And even if I did, do you really think I'd make up a story about a dumbass black star?  I could come up with a story _far_ better than _that_ ," I insist while thumbing my nose in irritation.

"I believe you, y'know," Rai announces with a heavy hand slapping my shoulder.  "Just 'cuz we can't see it don't mean it's not there."

I bite back the urge to comment that his opinion doesn't amount to much in this world.  I really do respect both Raijin and Fuujin.  They are loyal to a fault, decent fighters, partners I could trust to watch my back, and despite all of that, I also know that they'll tell me the truth and let me know when I'm being a complete ass.  Not that I always listen to their comments, but it's still good information when it matters.

With a tired groan, I fall back against the roof we had claimed as a watch station for the evening.  As self-appointed disciplinary committee members, it's our role to make certain that the little kiddies of this town stay good and don't sneak out during curfew hours.  And while it's a role that has given me a lot of pleasure in the past, I've been feeling restless as of late.  It may have something to do with that dark star, but I've only noticed it in the past week.  No, there's something else irritating me like a damned itch in a place you can't reach.

"So, whacha gonna get with the prize munnies when you win tomorrow?" Rai asks while shifting his position, inching closer to Fuu without touching.  Idiot, like I don't know they're dating behind my back.

"Don't know.  I've been thinking about getting a necklace," I say while rubbing my neck, the warm skin feeling oddly exposed.  "Probably something silver."

"Expensive," Fuu comments.

"Yeah, well, anything worthwhile is expensive.  Just like the blade I'll get someday."

Fuu continues to stare at me while Rai nods dumbly, both of them hearing that particular story one too many times.  I don't know why I bother.  It's not like anyone uses a real blade around here, but I've read enough books to know I want the weight of real metal in my hands, not some piece of shit foam bat.  I want something more than this boring small town life where I'm supposed to get a part time job delivering mail, pasting posters all over the damned place, or swatting a bunch of bees.  Seriously, I don't know how those normal kids do it.

It gets quiet for awhile, not that I mind, but Rai has never been one to sit still for long.  "So, you really think there's a black star out there?"

Rolling my eyes at his question, I move onto my side with my back facing the duo and grumble, "Nah, I just like fucking with your head.  I mean who could actually see that kind of thing at night?"

"Oh, that's good.  It makes more sense, y'know," he says a bit too cheerfully, as if incredibly relieved that his leader wasn't crazy after all.

"Idiot," Fuu says under her breath, the intelligent girl knowing the truth about what I thought I could see in the sky.

"Hey, he really sounded like he could see it, y'know?" Rai says defensively, assuming that his girl was insulting him for being gullible and not because he didn't realize that I was being sarcastic about messing with him.

Before Fuu could try to knock some sense into the brute, I let out an overly loud sigh and roll up onto my feet.  Stretching my arms high in the air, I declare, "Listen, kiddies, I'm heading home and getting some rest.  I've heard Setzer has upped his training routine and is delusional about kicking my ass this time around."

"Ha, you'll show him who's boss, Seifer," Rai cheers with a raised fist.  "Give 'im hell, y'know."

Fuu gives an affirmative nod to the sentiment, showing her support without wasting her few words.

Walking off from the duo, I lift a hand in a lazy wave and try my hardest to _not_ imagine what they'll do to take advantage of their rare chance alone.  Reaching the edge of dark tiles, it's an easy matter to hop from the rooftop to a collection of conveniently placed boxes, from there jumping to the street below.  Dead at this time of night, there is no one around to see me walking a little bit too much like a drunkard while staring up at the starry sky.  I know I should leave it alone; after all, what does it matter to me if there's a black star out there in space?  But gazing up into that void, I'm filled with the sensation that something amazing is heading this way, something I've been waiting for in my dreams.

Rubbing the base of my neck, I smirk at the unrealistic direction of my thoughts.  Really, if I keep deteriorating like this, maybe I should visit that headshrinker like my parents keep suggesting with that touch of hope in their eyes.  Worse comes to worse, I suppose that I could get some time out of school from the deal... But nah, I think living out my delusions would be a lot more interesting than being a normal kid.  Why ruin that romantic dream?

~ > < ~

"Here we have it, Struggle fans: an exhibition match between two of our most popular Strugglers!" the announcer calls out to the surrounding crowd.  "On this side, we have the head of the Twilight Town Disciplinary Committee - Seifer Almasy!  And at the opposite corner, it's our former Struggle Champion - Setzer!"

The nearby group of females cheer for their obvious favorite and it's definitely not because of Setzer's skills with a Struggle bat.  Really, I don't know why they waste their energy on such a fruit.  He doesn't even know how to wear a jacket properly, let alone being a touch too concerned about his hair.  More importantly, I've been wondering for a long while about why a man his age is playing around with a sport that is dominated by teenagers.

"All right, combatants, to your positions.  And remember kids, visit our store in town and ask your parents for your own Struggle bat.  Who knows!  You could be the next champion!"

I cringe at the hardly subtle advertisement, and while not the reason for this exhibition, it's been awhile since the title match and I guess sales were getting a little low.  No, I wanted this match to shut up Setzer's boasting that since the last Struggle Champion went missing, Setzer has the strongest bat in Twilight Town.  It's a load of bullshit and I've been dying to shove it in his face.

Posing with his bat resting on his shoulder, Setzer flashes a smile in my direction.  "Sure you want to do this, boy?"

With a hard smirk, I shoot back, "Careful there, Setz.  Someone might think you're propositioning a minor."

His glamorous smile falters to a sterner expression, one that most people don't have the privilege of witnessing.  "Your death wish.  It's time to ante up."

"Ready, combatants?" the announcer questions as if we hadn't been standing around for the past five minutes.  "All right then, let's STRUGGLE."

Setzer and I launch forward with the same timing, covering the distance between us in little time.  The silver-haired man pulls his arm back in an overly familiar fashion, a move that alerts me to his favored lunging attack.  I skid to a halt and turn to the side with the right timing for the idiot to fly past me in a technique of repetitive attacks that would probably hurt if it ever connected.  As it is, Setzer can't easily stop given the forceful lunge and leaves his back completely open for my pleasure.  I manage to get in three hard strikes against his back, shoulder, and legs, the last hit causing the man to stumble and nearly fall.  What a shame I couldn't completely trip him - some concrete might help to fix that face of his.

Spinning around with a flourish of his jacket-turned-cape, Setzer glares at me with a vindictive edge before charging forward.  With several hops backward, I manage to avoid the broad slashes of his bat, the frustration of missing me leading to a missed beat and a wide opening.  Grabbing the other end of my bat with my free hand, I shove the length of the foam against his chest and drive him back numerous clumsy steps, but this time the man doesn't save himself as he stumbles and lands on his ass.

While the female fans cry out their distress over his fall, I savor the moment of victory against the fruitcake, but the sense of ease doesn't last long.  A chill runs along my spine at the sudden sensation of eyes upon me, something that should've been obvious given the crowd, but I've never felt such intensity from a single gaze.  I glance over the clumped gathering of Struggle fans and notice the flash of a metal necklace before I'm reminded of my situation.

A blur of purple and silver catches my eye, startling me into the reflexive action to jump back with a sweep of my Struggle bat.  I manage to parry the first strike of Setzer's lunging attack and just barely dodge the second, but the third lands against my shoulder.  More than usual, it's humiliating to have this old man score a point against me, especially when Setzer uses the moment to flaunt his victory by posing in front of his fans.

A snarl passing through my lips, I take one long step before leaping into the air and launching in the man's direction.  Too busy with his appearances, Setzer doesn't notice me until it's too late and the tip of my Struggle bat connects between his shoulder blades.  He stumble forwards and attempts to face me, a bad mistake as I continue my attack.  With every swing and thrust of the bat, I drive Setzer back another step as he tries to reform any type of defense against my onslaught.  Eventually the Struggle bat is lost and the silver-haired man drops to the ground in the weakest attempt yet I've seen from someone who was avoiding my strikes.

I take a final step forward and rest my Struggle bat at my shoulder as I sneer down at the pathetic loser.  "Got anything left, _champ_?"

Setzer glares up at me with a bit of defiance left in his eyes, but the expression abruptly changes into a wary, wide-eyed expression that seems a little bit overdone for a Struggle match.  Before I can manage an insulting word in his direction, the silver-haired man scurries to his feet in a ridiculously unmanly manner and runs off without his bat.  Confused, I watch his retreat and think to throw his cowardice in the face of his clueless fans, but I'm surprised to discover that the crowd is also making a fearful withdrawal, their cries of support at some point changing to cries of terror.

It's with resigned realization that I figure out that something must be behind me, something I'm not going to like to see.  My hand tight around the handle of my Struggle bat, I turn with as much composure that I can manage and face... well, I can't exactly tell what I'm facing.  Dark smoke twists and turns in a large mass that must be at least ten times my size.  While I can't identify the thing, it's a logical assumption that I should be placing as much distance as I can away from it.  Instead, I find myself entranced by the movement of black clouds that occasionally flicker with electricity.  It doesn't take long before I start seeing a pattern in the dark mass and notice that it's gradually forming a shape, a shape with sharp looking teeth.

Before I can blink, those teeth escape the black clouds and thrash in my direction, ready to remove my head with a simple snap.  Before those teeth connect, something hard shoves me backward and knocks me off my feet, landing me on the ground where I raise my Struggle bat in a weak defense against the monster made of darkness.  Once realizing I that was still in one piece, I lower my bat far enough to glimpse over my arm.  Eyes wide, I stare at blood red wings that stand out from a leather jacket, the bold symbol distracting me in the moment before a roar fills the confined area of the sandlot.  At that point, it becomes very difficult to miss the appearance of a shadow-like version of a dinosaur, a T-rex with a few too many teeth and completely out of its element in the middle of this small town.  Shit, why do I have a crazy urge to explain to this monster that it should be extinct and hope that it somehow _forgot_ that minor detail?

"Get up, idiot, and _run_."

The rough tenor voice snaps me out of my stunned daze and makes me look at the full form of my savior.  Dark chestnut hair hangs over his neck and hides most of his face, the choppy appearance making me assume the man had shortened the hair himself with whatever knife he had on hand.  Belts and clasps hug at all parts of his body, many located in areas that make no logical sense.  And while obviously muscular beneath soft leather, the guy appears slim and very breakable in front of the enraged monster.  But then I hear the subtle clink of metal and notice a swaying chain, that leading up to the weirdest handle of a blade that I have _ever_ seen.

"I don't like repeating myself," the man warns as he slides back a booted foot.

Despite the slight quake of my arms, I manage to push up onto my feet.  "What about you?  You can't be serious about facing this thing alone."

A quiet huff sounds from the man a split second before he launches forward with speed I've never witnessed in a Struggle match.  His bizarre sword lifted up to shoulder level, he runs at the black T-rex without a flinch at the beast's angered roar.  Blinking, I miss the stranger's initial leap into the air, but watch stunned as he lands three, four, _five_ strikes in the matter of seconds, creating deep wounds that ooze out heavy mist instead of blood.  There's hardly a clack of boot on stone before the stranger pulls back his blade and swings in a wide arc, slashing at the weakest point of the T-rex's exposed throat.  Despite the weapon buried almost a third of the way through its neck, the monster still roars in pain and swishes its large tail in anticipation of attacking the small human.  The stranger amazingly smirks at the sound that chills my entire body, and without a warning in my direction, he pulls the trigger located on the unusual base of his sword.

An explosion sounds, promptly followed by a sudden shower of black goop that splatters across my face and body.  Too shocked to care, I stare forward to watch the headless body of the T-rex slowly totter and fall with a resounding thud, the vibrations nearly knocking me off my feet.

Casually lowering his soiled weapon, the dark-haired man steps to the unmoving body and eyes the dark mass before lifting a gloved hand.  As sudden as the previous explosion, white light shoots out from the stranger's hand and immediately sets the monster ablaze in white fire.

"Holy fucking shit!"  The curse leaves me before the reality of the situation truly hits.  This twig of a man just cut down a demonic dinosaur without breaking a sweat and then did _magic_.  Honest to god, nothing-up-my-sleeves **magic**.  And he did all of that while saving my life, never missing a beat.

"Do you have a home to go to?"

Startled, I watch the brunet sheath his blade, his face still veiled behind dark chestnut strands.  "Of course I've got a home.  What do you think I am?  An orphan or something?"

Narrow shoulders seem to tense.  "Then get home.  I don't have time to babysit kids."

"B, babysit... _Fuck that!_   Who the hell do you think you are to call me a _baby?_ " I shoot back at the prick, abruptly irritated by the nameless man.  "You may think you're all high 'n' mighty because you can kill an overgrown lizard, but if I had a weapon like yours, I could've handled it just fine by myself."

"A weapon like mine," the man mutters before scoffing loudly and running gloved fingers back through his hair, adding streaks of black to the brown locks.

"Yeah, something with an edge.  It's not like I could've done anything with this piece of shit," I say while kicking my discarded Struggle bat.  As the foam toy skitters away, I realize that I've probably only succeeded in making myself look more like a kid to this experienced fighter, something that causes a dull pain in my chest.  Sneering at the senseless ache, I turn sharply to properly face the stranger.  "Where did you learn to use that thing?"

The brunet pauses before he lowers his arm and shifts in my direction, giving me the first real look at his features.  Pale skin stands out compared to the dark chestnut hair framing his face, but more dramatic are chilling eyes of blue-iron, icy and firm in their uncomfortably _old_ gaze.  And between those eyes lies a scar line of reddish-brown, giving the obviously aged scar a fresher appearance as if the blood still stained his skin.  At the sight of the eerily familiar scar, I reflexively adjust my hat a bit lower and try not to show my discomfort at sharing something with this stranger.

"You should run."

Blinking, I meet harsh eyes to find that they weren't quite looking at me.  With a fleeting groan of irritation, I look back over my shoulder and only need the glimpse of dancing shadows before my feet take the initiative and I cover the short distance between me and the stranger.  I don't dare turn around until I'm safely behind the man and his large sword, and when I do turn, I instantly regret the choice.

"What the _fuck_ are those?" I demand while pointing at several black panther-like creatures, each with a very large... _mustache_ of sorts.

"Dark memories from a sleeping princess," the man responds in a distant voice while taking part in an impromptu staring contest with the closest feline of the bunch.

"Riiiiight, and I'm Goldilocks.  So, were you planning to use that blade of yours or can I borrow it?"

Looking over his shoulder, the brunet smirks amusedly.  "You wouldn't like this one.  It's too heavy to handle one-handed."

"Wha... How do you--"

And with the same incredible speed as before, the stranger leaves me behind as he charges at the group of large cats.  His blade isn't draw until the last possible moment, the stained silver flashing in the sun before being lost within the dark body of a feline, killing it in one strike.  Instantly three others rise to their feet, their odd whiskers twitching with crackling energy.  The dark-haired swordsman stands casually as the snarling creatures easily surround him.  In an unexpected thunderous crack, black energy strikes down against the man, briefly covering him in electricity that crawls across every inch of his slender body.

"Holy mother..." I whisper in shock.  He shouldn't be standing, shouldn't be _alive_ , and yet before I can even consider a step in his direction with the intention to somehow help him, the stranger jerks out of his electricity-induced pose and promptly swings his blade in an arc that beheads one of the unlucky cats.

The whiskers of the remaining two felines wilt in fear, but despite their retreating steps, the dark-haired man doesn't seem to have much mercy when it comes to these demons.  One loses its forelegs just before the other gets a steel-toed boot in the snout, the impact effectively crushing the cat's skull into a bloody mess.  The one remaining and fatally injured cat tries to get its final revenge with a whip of its electrified whiskers, but the stranger anticipates the attack and captures the whiskers in his gloved hand.  Dark energy crackles around his arm, particularly sparking at the buckles of the three belts wrapped at his forearm.  Eyes of metallic gray shine as the man smirks at the shadow-covered creature, and with his blade raised to the cat's eye-level, an echoing explosion sounds from the weapon and the final feline is killed.

Unable to move or think, I simply stare at the swordsman standing in the middle of black carnage.  Despite his slender build and pretty boy appearance, the man somehow looks... perfect with chestnut-colored hair ruffled and darkened by gunk, pale skin burnt by electricity, and tight muscles hugged by worn leather.  He's right where he should be... and yet, I have a feeling that he doesn't belong here in the least.

"Who are you?" I ask anxiously, not certain how far I want to associate myself with this stranger, my savior or not.

The man turns slightly, just enough for his longish hair to sway against his face.  "The name is Leon."

"... Leon?" I repeat with a raised eyebrow, the uninspiring name doing nothing for me.  "Huh, it doesn't suit you."

With a shadow of a smile, the brunet says nothing while sheathing his bizarre blade and then brushing some of the dark mess from his jacket.

"You're not from here."

"No, I'm not," Leon says as he gives up on the hopeless effort of cleaning himself without a bucket of soap and a fire hose.  Stepping over the carcass of a feline, he picks up my forgotten Struggle bat, the light blue foam bearing dark scorch marks.  Before I can tell him to dump the piece of crap, the brunet waves a hand in the direction of the slaughtered cats and sets them ablaze in the same white fire that had turned the dino into ash.

"Why do you keep _doing that?_ " I demand irritably, nearly certain that the guy was purposefully showing off his magic.

"The bodies would present too many questions."

I stare at him and grudgingly recognize that this man has some kind of deep dislike for answering questions.  And while he has given me some answers, they are worthless in the grand scheme of things.  All I have is his name and I have a gut feeling that he didn't tell me the name I deserve to hear.

"Here," Leon says, holding the ruined Struggle bat in my direction.

I scoff at the offer.  "I don't want it.  Tell me where you got your blade, instead."

"...That place doesn't exist anymore."

I almost call his bluff when I notice the dark gleam to his eyes, all signs of the softer blue vanished within the harsh silver.  While it first seems a lie that the weapons maker is gone, I instead think that this man is the master at understatements.  That assumed, I have to wonder what Leon meant by his words if he wasn't talking about a shop that has interesting weapons.  "What exactly do you mean by 'that place'?"

Leon says nothing, something that is beginning to irritate the shit out of me, but instead of surrendering to such a pathetic diversionary tactic, I decide to play his little game.  Folding my arms across my chest, I meet his frozen eyes and mimic his previous frown.  Realizing that I was perfectly prepared to stand here and wait, Leon lifts one of his dark eyebrows in an interested gaze, but he doesn't seem to take my stance seriously.  A shame for him that the sight of disbelief only makes me that much more determined to prove him wrong.

After several minutes of nothing except the sound of white flames petering out into smoke and ash, I hide a surprised flinch at the clatter of running footsteps that quickly grow louder.  Glancing to the side, I groan irritably at the sight of my posse, the duo completely out of breath and incredibly late.

"Seifer!" Rai yells out before stopping at the edge of the sandlot and bending over in exhaustion.  "Sorry we're late, but I forgot to set my alarm, y'know."

Fuu slows to a stop next to the large teen and smacks the back of the brute's head, earning a muffled apology from her boyfriend.

Rolling my eyes, I return my gaze to Leon with the intention to continue our staring contest, but find the man's attention directed to my friends.  While the interruption was bothersome, I find my resolve distracted by the stony appearance of eyes that had just moments earlier shone like polished metal.  Seeing that cold and sheltered gaze, I have to wonder what's happening in the brunet's head.

"Whoa, what happened to everyone?  Wasn't there supposed to be a match, y'know?"

"It ended earlier than expected," I state while looking at all that remains of the dark creatures.  While Rai and Fuu are amazingly loyal, it'd probably be a bit much to ask them to believe that a T-rex appeared out of nowhere and nearly made a snack out of me.

"Oh.  And who's he?" Rai asks with a pointed movement of his chin.

"No one," Leon responds before I can open my mouth.  Tossing the damaged Struggle bat at my feet, he turns and heads in the direction that leads out of town.  "Try to keep your nose clean, kid."

I don't think before I move, my hand wrapping around his arm in an instinctive effort to stop him.  My fingers barely brush against his chilled skin before Leon spins around sharply, his hand a lot faster than my own as he puts me in a single-handed chokehold.  Lifted to my tip-toes, I stare wide-eyed into bright silver orbs and wonder just how many people this man has killed in a similar manner.

"You don't have permission to touch me," Leon states in a low growl, something meant for my ears alone.

" _Hey_ , let go of him, y'know!" Rai yells out, the sound of his approaching footsteps joined by lighter feet giving me a slight heart attack.

" _Don't help_ ," I order them in a strained voice, terrified for their lives when it comes to this unpredictable man.  Hell, he could probably kill them and put me back into a strangle hold before I could blink.  Hearing uncertain grumbles from Rai, I insist, "He's not going to hurt me."

Leon scowls at my comment.  "You shouldn't assume things like that.  It'd get you killed."

"Yeah, well, you don't seem the type to murder someone you just saved.  That would be a complete waste of effort, after all."

Eyes narrowed, Leon continues to glare at me until abruptly using his hold to shove me back several feet.  "I'm tired of seeing your face.  Stay in town and out of trouble so that I don't have to come back."

I rub at my throat, curious if the man's fingerprints were imprinted on my skin.  "What do you mean stay in town?  Who are you to say where I can and can't go, huh?"

"I'm going to finish placing wards around this town to prevent anymore... visitors.  If you decide to step outside of that protection, then there's nothing I can do about it."

"And what, I'm supposed to stay _here_ for the rest of my stinking life?"

Leon shrugs with little concern about my distress at staying in a place that smothers me and makes me fill like I don't really belong.  From the moment I first held a Struggle bat, I knew something was wrong and that nothing would ever be right if I stayed in this place too long.  My family and school have kept me back all these years, not to mention the fact that I didn't know _where_ I should be going, but maybe this man is the key to my escape.  Him coming here, saving me... there has to be a reason behind all of it.  There has to be... hey, wait a minute--

"Why are you here, anyway?" I ask the pale-eyed swordsman, startled by the realization that he was a stranger who had appeared at the precise moment to save my hide.  It's a bit too much to be a mere coincidence.

"... ..."

" _Tell me_.  Were these monsters after you?  Was it _your_ fault that I nearly became catnip?"

With a shadow of a smile, Leon brushes chestnut hair from his eyes, his thumb lingering along the scar that mirrors mine.  "I saw a dark omen and decided to come.  Nothing more than that."

"A dark omen," I repeat with a disbelieving scoff.  "What, like a raven following you around or a... a black star or something?"

Visibly startled, or at least to the extent that seems possible the dour brunet, Leon asks, "You can see it, too?"

While it takes me a second to understand what the man means, I realize that I had inadvertently mentioned that dark star that has been bothering me for the past several days.  Turning sharply, I point a triumphant finger in Rai's direction.  "Ha!  I _told_ you that there was a black star out there.  I'm not as crazy as you think, you dumbass!"

His dark eyes dull in slow thought, Rai glances down at Fuu in a silent plea for someone to explain things to him, but the silver-haired girl doesn't meet his gaze.  Instead, she frowns at both me and the stranger who had been choking me only moments earlier, obviously not pleased with my continued desire to talk with the dangerous man.

Irritated by my posse's refusal to acknowledge my perfectly sane state of mind, I turn back around and ask Leon, "So, what's that star got to do with me?"

"... Nothing if you stay in the town limits," he replies with the apparent decision to make his departure once again.  Before I can make a step in his direction, Leon lifts a hand and snaps his gloved fingers in an action that cause thick spikes of ice to rise from the ground, thereby creating an effective wall to thwart my desire to have all of my questions answered.

"You can't leave me like this," I demand, vaguely concerned about what would come next after an appearance of four electricity-producing felines and a fucking dinosaur.  Maybe a fire-breathing dragon or two, or if things got really crazy, why not a murdering unicorn with a scythe for a horn?

Leon doesn't flinch or turn at my accusing tone, but he does say something in a quiet voice, something I doubt I was meant to hear, but it's not like it makes much sense in the end.

Forced to retreat from the monstrous icicles and the swirl of freezing air, I take enough steps backward from the magically formed wall to better see the departure of the dark-haired swordsman.  Confused by his parting words, I push back the edge of my hat and rub a finger along the scar between my eyes.  "What the fuck does he mean that he's just returning the favor?"

~ > < ~

I stare up into the sky as I walk along cobbled streets, for the first time giving that odd star in the night sky a touch of respect rather than offhanded curiosity.  It doesn't seem as bright tonight, maybe because of the 'wards' Leon should have placed around the town by now, but my blood still feels cold at the sight of the thing.  With a vague shiver of my body, I move my gaze from the night sky and focus on the gates closed for the night.  While over ten feet in height, the vast walls and ornamental gates serve no greater purpose than to keep out the occasional wolf and to give the town a wealthier appearance.  Stepping to the gate, I toss my loaded backpack over the barrier and then proceed to climb the obstacle with familiar ease after years of escaping this place whenever the sensation of suffocation became too much to bear.

Dropping noiselessly to the ground, I reach out for my backpack and grab onto the worn strap before I notice the vague movement of shadows.  Growing immensely tired of things sneaking up behind me, I remove a switchblade from a pouch of my backpack and turn sharply while flicking the blade free.

"And that's how you plan to protect yourself?  With a toy knife?"

My eyes wide and my arm unmoving, I can do little more than stare at the reappearance of the dark-haired swordsman leaning against the looming wall.  And as more seconds pass, I feel just slightly stupid for pointing a switchblade at his throat when he has a far larger weapon at his command, not to mention the speed necessary to remove my hand if he so desired.

Making a show of glancing at the watch beneath his glove, Leon states, "Almost fifteen hours.  Hn, I thought you would've ignored my warning a lot sooner than this."

The man's superior tone rubs me in all of the wrong ways and certainly doesn't encourage me to lower my knife.  "You asswipe, who are you to assume what I decide to do, huh?"

"I'm someone who actually thinks before acting," Leon says while pushing up from the stone wall.  "So, what was the plan, kid?  Escape everything that keeps you safe and avoid adulthood all together?"

"What do you care?  You _left_."

Eyes gleaming pale sapphire in the moonlight, Leon says nothing as he glares at me and silently demands an answer more to his liking.

"Fine, there's no real plan, all right?  I'm just tired of school, tired of this town, and _really_ tired of Struggle Battles," I declare while flicking my blade closed and pocketing the flimsy weapon.  "I deserve to do more in this life than flinging around a foam bat.  I'm going to learn to use a real blade and I'll be the one to protect people, not the one _being_ protected."

The stranger huffs at my reply.  "In other words, you want to be a knight."

I hadn't thought of it that way before, but the moment the words are spoken, I know it's exactly what I've wanted for so long.  "Yeah, a knight that everyone knows and respects."

Leon brushes gloved fingers through dark hair while muttering under his breath, "Some things never change."

"Hey, I'm serious," I argue, hating that this man is apparently comparing me to the typical kid wanting to fight dragons and witches.

"I know you are," he states quietly before I can further my case, startling me with his lack of disbelief.  "What about your parents and friends?"

"Rai and Fuu understand what I want and they have each other, so it's no big deal if I leave for a while.  And my parents..."  I breathe a laugh through a hard smirk.  "My mom will be mad, but ever since she remarried and my little sister was born, I'm not really necessary.  They'll be better off without me ruining their picture-perfect family."

Eyeing me carefully, Leon asks, "You have a sister?"

"Yeah, a real genius, too.  Quisty is going to soar to the places that I can't reach," I say with some brotherly pride for my half-sister.  It's amazing how different we are, the only similarity being the color of our hair.  It'll be a shame to leave her behind - no one can make her laugh like I can, or piss her off until smoke practically steams from her ears.

"Quistis, huh?" the brunet says with a subtle glance in the direction of the town beyond the golden-colored gate.

"Hey, you're not asking about my family because you're planning to take me back, are you?" I say with some worry, not entirely certain I could escape this man if he really wanted to force me to return.

Briefly focusing his stony gaze on me, Leon then closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose with gloved fingers, his pose suggesting deep and highly frustrating thoughts.

"I'll have you know that even if you do make me go home, I'll just leave another night.  You can't keep an eye on me forever."

Leon scoffs before lowering his hand and reopening pale eyes to have them quickly hidden beneath long bangs of chestnut-colored hair.  He steps forward, his boots crunching on loose gravel as he comes close enough to grab me and force me back over the gate... But he doesn't do that.  Instead, Leon brushes past me and picks up my loaded backpack without breaking his stride.  I turn with the intention to demand for my stuff back, but he throws the bag straight at my chest and knocks the air out of me as I reflexively grab onto the backpack.

Without facing me, Leon says, "If you come with me, there won't be any visits home until you can take care of yourself."

It takes a moment before I realize what he is offering.  Hugging the backpack to my chest, I quickly debate the possibility of this being the stranger's plan all along - to somehow summon demons to kill me, save me from said demons, and then gain my trust before whisking me away as some kind of slave or something worse.  It's a bit overkill for something that could also be done with shiny objects and a set of handcuffs, but it also seems too easy to have this master swordsman take me in and assumedly train me.

"What would I owe you in return?" I ask, needing to understand this guy's motives.

"I have to see if you're trainable, first."

"...the Hell...?  Are you comparing me to a fucking _dog_ or something?"

Leon doesn't reply, but his slight snicker can be heard in the quiet of night.

"Fine," I mutter irritably.  "Once I show you my stuff, what happens after that?"

Slowing to a halt, Leon turns such that moonlight reflects off from the large pendant at his chest.  "This is a simple offer, kid.  If you can't trust me, then I can't train you."

"That's asking a lot when I've never seen you before today.  You saved my life, I'll give you that, but... I don't _know_ you," I tell him, unable to think of better words to explain the battle between my instinct to trust him and my parents' teachings to never take candy from strangers.

Leon studies me silently, his eyes unreadable in this poor light and the distance between us.  Eventually he turns around, showing me his back and the image of bright red wings when he says, "You're already asking for death by leaving the town's protection.  What does it matter if you take a step further and follow me as well?"

The somber tone puts me off guard as I stare at his backside, surprised when Leon continues on his previous path, the brunet obviously having no intention to further coerce my decision or to even wait for my reply.  I imagine his life would be easier without me around to upset the balance, not to mention the necessity of him having to protect two necks instead of his one.  And really, I have no reason to trust him or to doubt him...

Glancing up into the sky, I focus on that stupid star that is somehow connected to all of this and do a double-take when looking at the thing.  It's angry.  Furious, really, and don't ask me how I know that a star can have emotions like that.  But something about its anger makes me smile and I'll bet my handful of munny that it doesn't want me with Leon.  Well, that's certainly interesting.

A hand wrapped around the straps of my bag, I fling it onto my back and hurry to catch up to the dark-haired swordsman.  As the man said, what's the difference between losing my life to a shadow kitten or taking my chances with a possibly homicidal, though certainly experienced warrior?  At least this way I have a chance at using a real blade before I'm killed and there's nothing wrong with dying after fulfilling your dreams.

~ > < ~

Bored, bored, bored...

When I had first set eyes on Leon's mode of transportation, my immediate thought was 'holy fucking god, he has a spaceship'.  My excitement was only slightly reduced by Leon calling it a 'Gummi ship', whatever crazy sort of name that is.  Makes it sounds like a kids toy.  No, my eyes told me it was a spaceship, and with that thought, I came to the abrupt realization that Leon wasn't kidding when he said there wouldn't be any visits home for a long while.  Despite all that, I didn't have a second thought when jumping into the copilot's seat and resisted the urge to bounce like an idiot with naive thoughts about space travel, asteroids, and aliens.

I'm such a chump.

Turns out that spaceships come with something called 'autopilot'.  With a few selections of the right buttons, Leon had set the course to 'Radiant Garden' and sat back in his seat with nothing left to do except to wait for our arrival.  Granted, the first launch into space was incredible, but then the only view became unending blackness with a few shining lights.  And when the only source of entertainment is a twenty-something man with pathetic conversation skills, it becomes real boring real fast.

My chin resting on my fist, I stare at the dark-haired man slumped in his chair with arms crossed over his chest and his head bowed in apparent sleep.  Seated like that, I get my first real look at the man.  My predominate thought is that he shouldn't be a fighter.  Long eyelashes flutter over pale and soft-looking skin, full lips form a small pout that better suit models, and choppy chestnut hair lays gently across his long neck.  Refined, beautiful, and a pain in the ass... Destiny must have had something better planned for this beautiful man, but something else pushed Leon to the blade, forcing him to get good or die.  I can't imagine him being as skilled as he is without some major motivation.

Eventually I start feeling a bit too much like a stalker while watching the sleeping brunet, so I direct my attention to the dashboard of buttons.  I have enough intelligence to avoid anything red or labeled as a cannon or booster, but soon enough I find something of potential interest.

"Don't touch it."

My finger maybe an inch from the black button, I jump at the voice and glare at the seated man.  "There's _no_ _way_ you saw that.  Your eyes aren't even open!"

Cracking open an eyelid, icy blue gazes at me through dark lashes.  "I told you before that you couldn't press any buttons."

"Come on, it's just the CD player."

"This ship doesn't have a CD player," Leon comments while glancing at the dashboard.  "Hn, that C/D button is meant to contact Chip 'n' Dale."

"Uh, who are they and why is there a button here to contact them?"

"They are the chipmunks who engineered all of the Gummi ships.  If something goes wrong, they are the only ones who can fix the thing."

I blink, not quite certain what I was hearing from the prudish man.  "Did you say... chipmunks?  Is that code for something?"

With a slight smirk, Leon replies, "I take it that you don't have talking animals on your planet?"

"Well, **_duh!_**   And how can a _chipmunk_ engineer a spaceship?"

"There are two of them," Leon comments as if two chipmunks instead of one made all of the difference in the world.

"Holy shit, you're actually telling the truth," I say with true concern, my eyes exploring the visible portions of the ship in search of defects that would make this thing fall apart.  Hell, forget _defects_ \- how did this thing even get off the ground and are we going to land in one piece?

"I've had this ship for years, Almasy.  It's not going to fall apart on me now."

I turn sharply toward the brunet.  "Disease ridden _rodents_ built this thing and you expect me to sit back and relax?"

"They are hardly disease ridden and you were perfectly fine five minutes ago."

I press a hand against my face and try to understand how I'm really having this discussion with the dark-haired swordsman.  It's not normal, and while leaving Twilight Town in a spaceship isn't ordinary in the least, there is something innately wrong with said spaceship being built by a pair of chipmunks.  And for Leon to be comfortable with that thought... Why did I decide to follow him again?

A flash of light goes off and I find myself staring at a small vid screen... showing a pair of rodents in yellow aprons and wearing gloves.

"Welcome back to Radiant Garden, Leon!" one of the chipmunks says in a high-pitched voice.

"The guys have missed ya," the other with a large red nose adds while pushing his counterpart aside from the camera's view.  "Where'd you go?"

Before Leon can reply, the first one knocks the second one aside with his shoulder.  "Don't push me, Dale!"

"Hey, what'd you do that for?" 'Dale' retorts while shoving back.

In a rapid chain of events, the two chipmunks regress into incomprehensible chatter as they bat their arms at each other, not causing any real damage except for a lost glove.  Completely absorbed in their fight, they seem to forget all about us, which isn't necessarily a bad thing.  I'm still trying to cope with the idea of them wearing little aprons when they built this spaceship.

A soft chuckle suddenly sounds and I glance over at Leon to see him smiling with true amusement, a lighthearted expression that I imagine is rare for this man.  So rare, apparently, that it takes a pair of talking chipmunks to make him laugh.

"It's good to see you both, Chip, Dale."

Freezing where they are, Dale stops gnawing on a thigh and Chip somewhat loosens his headlock hold on his partner, both wide-eyed as they look at Leon and remember his presence.  Abruptly they break apart and stand with their right arms raised in a salute, both smiling as if they hadn't been at each other's throats only seconds earlier.  In perfect sync, they announce, "You're cleared to land."

Leon nods as he reaches forward and flips off the vid screen.  In the same motion, he presses several buttons, one of them triggering a computer voice that tells us to buckle our seatbelts and enjoy our visit.

"... talking rodents..." is about all I can say at this point.

"They would be offended if you keep calling them that.  And trust me, Cid has a few stories about what happens when you make them angry."

"Alright, then who's Cid?  A talking duck?"

"No, that's Donald, but you've already met him, of course."

With an incredulous glare at Leon, I can't be certain if the man is getting great enjoyment from my confused state or if he's being purposefully obtuse about my ignorance when it comes to far away worlds.

Leon glances at me.  "Don't tell me that you somehow missed an overgrown duck and six-foot dog standing around with Sora when he beat you during the Struggle tournament."

"Whoa, wait a minute, I could've kicked Sora's ass if I felt like it.  And as for his friends... I thought they were just idiots dressed in weird ass costumes," I explain weakly, almost embarrassed by my assumption when it came to the kid walking around with a pair of characters.  Frankly, it was easier to believe them to be in costume rather than to accept the sudden appearance of animals that walked and talked like humans.

"Costumes," Leon chuckles under his breath.

Bristled, but not about to admit that I was horribly wrong, I ask irritably, "Is there anything else I should be aware of?  Like singing chairs or dancing dishes?"

"Nah, the spell over Beast's Castle was broken months ago," Leon replies distractedly, more focused on preparing the ship for landing.  "Though I'd be careful in Merlin's house - anything is possible there."

Looking at the approaching world, I feel sick for the first time.  The ideas of training and going on some kind of adventure don't seem quite as incredible as before.  In Twilight Town, everyone knew who I was and respect was easy to obtain, but now I'm going to some place entirely new and alien.  Shit, what the Hell am I getting myself into?

~ > < ~

My hand tight around the straps of my backpack, I look all around me in awe of the construction taking place.  Nothing like the 'garden' I was expecting, this town has the appearance of being designed by a kid with mismatched building blocks.  Some of the structures don't seem overly stable, either, but the various inhabitants that I've seen so far seem secure and even happy with their home.  Granted, several of those inhabitants are animals that walk and talk way too much like humans for my comfort and who knows what a happy duck actually looks like, but they certainly seem to be smiling all of the time.

Passing through a high archway, I keep walking with my eyes more focused on the towering buildings around me rather than my immediate surroundings, so it's no surprise that I walk smack into Leon when he stops without warning.  Despite the cover of soft leather, walking into his body feels much like walking into a brick wall and I nearly fall to my ass when stumbling backwards.  Before I can curse at Leon for getting in my way, girlish laughter rings out and I glance around the brunet to see two women and an old guy standing in front of him.

While the woman with short dark hair continues to laugh, the other one with long braided hair leans around Leon to better see me.  "My, that's a new face.  Dale mentioned you had a passenger, but I thought it may have been Sora or one of his friends."

"He's here to train and then he'll leave," Leon states in a cold tone, making it sound like I had forced him to bring me here.

After directing a motherly glare to the brunet, the woman looks to me and smiles.  "Welcome to Radiant Garden.  I'm Aerith.  This is Yuffie and Cid," she says with a hand pointing to the short-haired woman and the grumpy looking man (definitely _not_ a duck) in turn.  "And he's Cloud."  When she directs to the nearby wall, I'm startled to see a spiky-haired man leaning in the shadows, obviously in plain sight, but I still missed him somehow.

Eventually realizing that introductions would require my participation, I point a thumb against my chest.  "The name is Seifer Almasy."

The one named 'Yuffie' gasps loudly, earning confused stares from Aerith and the old man.  Leon merely lifts a gloved hand to his face and rubs the bridge of his nose.

"You're Seifer?  Like, Twilight Town Seifer?" Yuffie asks rapidly, and before I can reply, she continues, "No wait, the _scar!_   You really have a scar like Squall's!"

Reflectively adjusting my hat to better cover that scar, I scowl at the woman.  "Who's Squall?"

"No one," Leon states at the same moment Yuffie giggles and points in his direction.

My scowl deepening, I step forward to better face the swordsman.  "I thought you said your name was 'Leon'."

"It is," he replies with clenched teeth, but the hyperactive woman doesn't seem to care about his irritated state.

"He was upset about losing his world to darkness and decided to change his name, but now you're here, Seifer, and--"

" _Yuffie_ ," Leon interrupts with a growl.

"Oh yeah, that's a secret," she says while placing a pointer finger against her temple and mimics shooting herself in the head.  "Sorry, I forgot."

More than a bit confused, it's somewhat comforting when I notice that Aerith and the old man seem equally clueless about what is happening.  Deciding to stick to what I understand, I comment, "You know, the name 'Squall' suits you better."

Leon turns sharply and pins me with a frozen glare.  "You call me by that name and I'll send you back home in a shoebox."

Forced backward a single step, I'm quickly reminded of this guy's ability to scare the shit out of me.  "Hey, you're the boss, man.  I'll forget all about your real name if you want me to."

With a frustrated groan, Leon glances at Yuffie and warns her, "You are treading on fine lines, thief."

Fists on her hips and cheeks puffed out in offense, the woman counters, "You're just difficult.  I thought you would've been more cheerful after, uh, doing what you said you wouldn't do, but you did it anyway."

As everyone simply stares at the short-haired woman, I ask Leon, "Did that actually make sense to you?"

"Unfortunately, yes," the dour man mutters as he waves aside the supposed thief.  "I'm taking this kid to the inn for the night, if it's all right with the rest of you."

Aerith lifts a hand to her cheek.  "Well, it's unusual to give shelter to people from other worlds that _haven't_ been lost to shadows, but as long as you have a reason for bringing him here..."

The old man scoffs and moves an unlit cigarette from one corner of his mouth to the other.  "Leon always has a reason.  Jus' keep the kid from my stuff and we're good."

"I vote he can stay, too," Yuffie announces with a raised hand, a little bit too excited about the idea.

Leon nods at the three people, and then looks to the guy in the shadows who has yet to say a word.

Pushing off from the wall, the blond walks away while speaking over his shoulder, "Don't let him distract you from your responsibilities."

"As if you're one to talk," Leon mutters under his breath.  Then looking to me, he nods his head in the universal 'we're going' fashion and steps forward with the clear assumption that people would make room for him.  Interestingly enough, they _do_ step aside without a disgruntled word and I try my best to follow behind, not really excited about prospect of talking to these people when Leon isn't around.  Granted, Yuffie must know something interesting about Leon and why he was in the right place at the right time to save my ass, but her violet-eyed gaze gives me the intense sensation of being stripped to my briefs and not in the friendly what-are-you-doing-tonight sort of way.

Still overwhelmed by the events of the past few days, I don't say anything as I follow Leon to the inn, a small building that further reveals the apparent rarity of travelers to this town.  Leon speaks with a young woman at the front desk and obtains a key with only a few clipped sentences.  He then leads me to a room that is nicer than I could imagine, an opinion mostly determined by the large number of pillows on the bed and the existence of a connecting bathroom.

"Your training starts at dawn," Leon announces while throwing the key in my direction.

He starts to leave with no further comment, but I manage to step in his path.  "Listen, I really don't have the munny for a place like this.  Don't you have a floor I could use?  I brought a sleeping bag with me."

"You're going to train in the mornings and do construction work in the afternoons to build up your endurance."  His smile oddly vindictive in nature, Leon comments, "You'll have plenty of munny to spend after a few weeks of carrying lumber."

"Wha... Hey, I'm not some slave, you asswipe.  You can't sign me up like that."

"I already did.  If you want to refuse, then I'll take you home right now."

I meet blue-gray eyes in anger, hating how this guy has me by the nuts.  "You could've mentioned it earlier."

"Training is training whether it involves a blade or basic discipline."

"And what, you want an obedient lapdog to lead around?"

Stony eyes narrow sharply in displeasure.  "I want no such thing."

"But you're selling me out for hard labor!"

"Keep arguing, kid, and see where it gets you."

" _Fine_ ," I growl while dropping my backpack onto the floor.  "I'll play your game for now, but just wait - I'll be kicking your ass before you know it."

With a quiet huff, Leon mutters, "Why else do you think I'm wasting this effort on you?"

Somewhat startled by the reply, I look at the dark-haired man in search of answers, but he turns before I can possibly see something, anything in his guarded eyes.

"My day starts once the sun rises," Leon states with his hand on the doorknob.  "I'll fetch you in the morning whether you're ready or not, so I suggest being well rested and properly dressed."

"Yeah, I get it.  Be ready or else," I say with failing sarcasm.

Leon nods silently and promptly leaves with the quiet whispers of leather.

I stare at that door for a long time, eventually stepping backward to blindly sit on the high mattress of the pillow-infested bed.  I can't remember the last time I felt exhaustion like this, something deeper than mere fatigue from sparring all day.  I suppose that it shouldn't be a surprise after the past couple of days - nearly dying at the hands of shadows, leaving the only home I've known, and entering a world completely strange and nonsensical to me.  But even considering all of that, I know the source of exhaustion is Leon.  I don't understand the guy, and while that sort of thing doesn't usually irritate me, I can't ignore the odd waver in his voice and the pained narrowing of pale eyes.  Something has happened to the guy and yet he's still training a punk kid when he could've just as easily left me behind on my world and forgotten about my existence.

Pushing off my black hat, I scratch at the flattened strands of hair before letting my fingers drift to the scar between my eyes.  I hate the damned thing, the mark giving me nothing more than shameful memories, but now... it's strange to consider that it connects me to Leon in some odd trick of destiny, something that has incredible potential to lead to amazing things.

I just hope that I'll wake up early enough in the morning to meet with destiny.

 

{Continued}

 

Author's Whining -- And thus, a sequel I never planned to write has begun.  Gnome is completely to blame.  Curse that woman, she manages to revive muses that were perfectly happy in retirement before I talked with her (see Life Series).  Anywho, if you're wondering about the title, you should all know by now that I'm not a creative person - FFVIII was made for Playstation and KH2 is on Playstation 2 - a new platform.  Yes, I'm pathetic. ^_-

BTW, no real clue if Twilight Town doesn't have the Disney characters like all of the other worlds, but I couldn't remember any.  Thusly, I imagine Twilight Town as kind of a 'modern day' world, but a rural city that doesn't have extensive technology.  Nothing like the World That Never Was.  If I'm wrong... well, it's still fun to have Seifer complain about the Disney side of the Kingdom Hearts games.


	2. Chapter 2

[Squall]

As the summer sun sets behind tall buildings, I walk at a lingering pace that hardly resembles my typical firm stride.  It's cruel of my body to question me like this, giving me the second chance to turn around and return to the inn I had just left behind.  It shouldn't be this confusing - that person isn't Seifer no matter how much my eyes want to believe otherwise.  As I reasoned before going to Twilight Town, there was no chance that the younger version of Seifer could retain anything of his previous self.  While his personality is painfully similar, his skill level is pathetic compared to the Seifer I knew at the same age.  Hell, the sixteen-year-old blond was the one to teach _me_ the skills needed to wield a gunblade, his attitude and abilities driving away the previous gunblade master.

But it isn't Seifer's sudden weakness that torments me the most when I'm in his presence.  No, when my eyes first settled on his face, I knew in an instant that his scar was different, not as steep as it once was.  The mark that had made Seifer mine doesn't exist anymore, just as Seifer no longer truly exists and I don't know what to do with that reality.

Scoffing at the sudden ache in my chest, I shake my head at the realization that Yuffie must have infected me with a glimmer of hope just before I had left to check on the clueless blond.  I knew better than that, knowing any hope I had would be crushed upon first sight of the younger and wholly _different_ Seifer.  Damn that woman for making my life more difficult.

I reach the safety of my home in short time, Radiant Garden not nearly large enough for me to exhaust my thoughts while walking across town.  Stepping inside the apartment that is smaller than my place in Traverse Town, I bend down to undo the straps of my boots while purposefully not looking in the direction of my silent and uninvited visitor.

"What do you need, Cloud?" I ask, unable to keep the steely edge from my voice.

The man clad in dark leather chuckles lightly before he steps out from the far corner of the flat.  "Nothing important.  The girls are worried, so they decided to send in their spy to discover your hidden thoughts and feelings."

I smirk at the comment, somewhat sympathetic to Cloud and his inability to refuse any request from the precious female figures in his life.  Removing my boots, I pad into my apartment that reminds me a touch too much of the dorm rooms in Balamb Garden - light gray walls with the glimmer of steel in some areas, a single small window that shines pale light on my narrow bed, and sparse furniture that serves the functional purposes of storing clothes and gunblade parts.  Aerith snuck in a vase of flowers once, but they didn't last very long.

"Seifer Almasy," Cloud eventually says as if trying out the name, seeing if the taste was to his liking.  "From Yuffie's reaction, I assume that he is someone from the lost world that you remember.  Someone with the initials SA."

"Blunt as ever, Strife," I comment dryly, impressed that it took the soldier less than an hour to make the inconvenient connection to the initials forever scarred along my penis, a memento from the third Sorceress War and the other horrors that had occurred before the Time Compression, before I changed that painful timeline.

"Tell me a civilized way to broach the subject and I'll remember it for next time."

Making it to the safety of my bed, I drop onto the mattress with a groan and place an arm over my eyes.  "It's not a problem."

"But those _are_ his initials, right?"

"... Yes."

With a frustrated breath, Cloud moves to the bed and sits next to me such that his leg presses against mine.  "You're one fucked up individual, Leon."

"It's not what you think," I grumble.  "Seifer got himself mixed up in dark magic and he wasn't himself for a long time."

Cloud hums in a light, knowing tone.  "It was still him, Leon - his face and his hand.  You can't tell me that you were able to forgive him."

"Easier said than done, I know... But that was Seifer's specialty.  He made the impossible possible and I never had a real chance against him."

"A-ah, then he's the one who gave you that ring you always wear."

At the statement filled with certainty, I lift my arm to stare at my limp hand and the bump of leather at the fourth finger.  "Aside from my scars, the only things that traveled with me to this odd universe were Lion Heart, my necklace, and this ring.  I suppose that I should be grateful to have that much, but in the same sense, it's difficult to live with the memories."

"And now the source of those memories has returned to haunt you."

With no real response to give to the comment, I decide to ask him, "Speaking of ghosts, how did it go with your own personal demon?"

Allowing me the escape into a different topic, Cloud's amused smirk softens into a quieter curl of lips.  "Sephiroth got away again, but for the first time, I think it was for the better.  I may have actually learned something this time around."

I lift an eyebrow in true interest, curious what could have gotten through the skull of this obsessed soldier after so many years.

"For the longest time, I thought I was chasing Sephiroth because I needed something from him.  I thought I was chasing my light," Cloud says with a bitter laugh.  "Turns out that Sephiroth is nothing more than the darkness I see in myself every time I glance into a mirror.  Once I realized that, I got to thinking about why I've been chasing him all of these years.  I haven't figured everything out yet, but I think... No, I'm nearly positive that he had stolen it from me.  It's his fault that I lost my true light and I'll never regain it again."

"Your true light... I take it that you don't mean either of the girls nor that determined young lady who was harassing Sora."

"No.  Someone who was lost to time long ago, many years before The Divide.  Someone I had forgotten about until recently..."

As I watch the folding and unfolding of hands, I sympathize with the man's tormented soul.  While my memories have stayed intact due to the aftereffects of the Time Compression, Cloud also recalls his other life because of a supposed 'dip' into the life stream of his planet.  His memories aren't as solid as mine, but I happen to have greater experience when it comes to meddling with time and space.  Even so, it's comforting to have someone else who remembers a different life compared to the one that everyone else believes is true.  It makes a man feel a little bit less crazy.

"You mentioned that Aerith had died in your other life," I comment softly.  "Maybe your 'light' was reborn on another world, too."

Cloud scoffs.  "As what, a teenage boy that I'd have to protect like you?  Or worse, maybe this disturbed universe turned him into a woman.  Shit, I'd bet he would _love_ that, too.  A pair of breasts to fondle and always within reach."

"Would it really matter?"

The soldier considers the question with a frown, but doesn't answer it when he looks back at me.  "Is that why you brought that kid here?  To restart the love life you had with his counterpart?  Maybe to make him into an obedient little boytoy?"

"Don't play that game with me, Strife.  You know damn well why I went to Twilight Town."

"Oh yes, that black star of yours," Cloud says condescendingly, as if humoring a child's excuse that the dog ate his homework.

"For your information, it was a lucky thing that I decided to go there and see for myself what defenses were in place around the town," I state in a grave tone, unable to ignore the memory that Seifer had nearly lost his head to the shadow of a creature that shouldn't exist in this universe.  "When I got there, demons from my old world suddenly appeared with the use of warp magic, something that made me consider a troubling theory.  And then I discovered that Almasy is the only other person who can see that star, a fact that confirms my worse fear."

"And that would be?"

I hesitate before voicing the thought that plagued me the moment I saw the T-Rexaur lunge at the unsuspecting teen.  "Ultimecia followed me here."

"Ultimecia...?  Wait, isn't that the sorceress you sealed away in your other life?"

"Yes," I reply quietly, momentarily haunted by the final visions of Rinoa trapped within a sphere made from superior technology, a beautiful tomb for the unfortunate princess.  "And I imagine that she's rather angry about our shared past."

"Shit, why does it seem like we always trade one problem for an even bigger problem?" Cloud grumbles as he scratches at the back of his neck.  "So, an evil sorceress is out for revenge.  Any reason why she waited this long?"

"There's no way to be certain, but just as our weapons stayed with us after The Divide, she may have been unlucky enough to have her prison travel with her."

"Hn, and if I remember correctly, you said that she was launched into space," Cloud says thoughtfully, his previous skepticism lost.  "Some 'dark star' you've got there, Leon."

"It gets worse.  The people who maintained that prison are gone, which means it's degrading to the point that her restraints won't keep her for long, and once she is free... Ultimecia will murder Seifer and she'll make me watch," I say with bleak certainty.  "That will be her revenge before she decides to take my life."

Glancing back over his shoulder, the soldier silently examines me with disturbingly bright sapphire eyes.  When he eventually moves, the creak of leather is soothing in some nameless fashion.  He stretches out along the mattress and rolls onto his side such that he places his back to me.  "Do you need help training the kid to defend himself?"

"Sixteen years old and he hasn't even _touched_ a true blade yet - I need all of the help I can get," I say with a frustrated huff.  Moving onto my side, I rest my back against Cloud's and try to remember when it became comfortable to be back-to-back with this mercenary.  "I take it that you're staying here tonight."

"I'd offer more, but I have a feeling you're not in the mood."

I don't reply, a silent expression of gratitude to the spiky-haired man.  Our relationship is a complex one - sex without love, companionship without dependence, empathy without pity - and I imagine that most of those we currently consider friends would be horrified and certainly bewildered by such a thing existing between two men.  We already confuse them enough and that's without them having a single clue about how stress-relieving sex can be.  Poor fools, they'll never be able to see beyond the metal and leather.

"Do you really think...?" Cloud whispers into the darkness without finishing the thought, the action reminding me of a child who fears that his spoken wishes will never come true.

Guessing his words, I tell him, "Your 'light' is out there, Strife.  We just have to find him."

The tenseness to shoulders disappear with a soft breath and the man settles more comfortably against me.  "You're a lucky man, Leon.  Fuck this up with the kid and I'll make you suffer for it."

With a drowsy smirk, I agree quietly, "Of course you will."

* * *

 

I knock at the inn door bearing the letters 'VIII', not prepared for the instant response of the door swinging open to reveal the young, oh so young, version of Seifer.  It's frightening how much is the same and yet slightly different from my faded memories - his vest is the same white cross on blue that highlights his eyes, but a couple sizes too small such that his midsection is in plain view; his trench coat is the same color and length, but absent the sleeves bearing his infamous cross sword; and of course his scar, still angled from his left eyebrow down across the bridge of his nose, is too sharp and not as deep as I remember.  The only new item is the black winter cap that hides most of his scar and arrogantly displays the 'before times' symbol for the male version of "I".  I already hate the thing and it's tempting to 'accidentally' set the thing ablaze with a well-placed fire spell.

"What took you?" Seifer asks with a commonplace smirk, proud and hungry.  "You're gonna buy me breakfast, right?"

I stare at the surprisingly energetic youth, remembering a time when Seifer loathed any class that took place before noon.  "I suppose we can get something along the way, but nothing heavy."

He nods in agreement while closing the door behind him, soon forced to hurry his pace when I walk ahead down the hallway.  "Hey, so what are you going to show me today?  Do I get to use your blade?"

"You touch my blade, you lose something," I warn lowly, irritated by the mere thought of someone else handling Lion Heart, the only blade faithful enough to follow me to this new universe.

Seifer places an extra few inches between us, logically wary at my sharp tone.  "Right, I'll remember that.  But can I learn to use a blade like yours?  It looks more interesting than those plain old swords that everyone else uses."

I smirk slightly, pleased that the youth wants to use a gunblade, not that I expected anything less.  "We'll see how you do."

Tugging on the edge of his hat, he directs a smug grin at me.  "As I see it, I'm only limited by the skill of my teacher, so you had better be as good as I think you are."

Without acknowledging the suggested doubt toward my skills, I lead Seifer into town and ignore his various comments about everything including both the odd structures that seem to defy the rules of gravity and the various inhabitants that have better hearing than Seifer probably realizes.  Looks like I'll have a few complaints about Seifer's sharp tongue before dinner tonight.

Eventually we reach our first stop and I enter the store without answering the confused gaze from Seifer.  A gathering of white-furred and flying creatures greet us with a few loud 'kupo' chirps, the noise startling Seifer into a stiff pose.  I shouldn't blame him for fearing the unknown, but really, who can find something frightening about a moogle?

"Moshi, I'm here to collect some of my things," I tell the moogle with blue wings.

"Of course, of course!" she says with a slight bounce, but instead of helping me directly, she stretches her small neck to look at the person I have with me.  "Is _he_ the one to use the blade we made?"

Seifer immediately latches onto the unfortunate question.  "A blade?  You have a blade for me?"

I rub gloved fingers across the bridge of my nose.  "You'll hurt yourself or, more importantly, someone else if I gave it to you now, but yes, if you can be successfully trained, there will be a gunblade waiting for you."

"A gunblade," the blond teen says in soft awe before moving closer.  "Can I see it?"

Before I can consider the damage it would cause to show him the blade too soon, Moshi has already moved to retrieve the gunblade case hidden away in the back room.  The weight is a heavy strain on her blue wings, but the determined moogle doesn't ask for help when placing the case onto the workbench.  Sighing at her overly helpful nature, I move aside as my nonverbal permission for Seifer to open the large case for himself.  Fingers lacking calluses brush along the dark wood before undoing the metal clasps and his eyes go wide when he reveals the weapon within.

For my part, a familiar pain returns at the sight of Hyperion's twin.

Many years ago, I recognized my precarious situation with wielding a gunblade when there was no weapons master who could repair the blade, let alone replicate one if I managed to destroy Lion Heart.  Once acknowledging that weakness, I came to the moogles and asked for help, Moshi immediately offering her services to help me learn how to fix and create a gunblade.  Hyperion, however, had been a mistake.  In my mind, I know that I had started with a completely different design, something heavier and with more fire power, but my hands and subconscious worked against me to create a twin to Hyperion.  Who could've guessed that its master would return to claim it?

"It's perfect," Seifer whispers as he runs his fingers across the long blade, ruining its oil job.  "Did you make this for me?"

"Don't be an idiot - it takes a lot longer than a night to make something like this."  When the teen frowns at my words, I decide to clarify further, "Moshi and I made this blade last year to see if we could replicate one.  It's too light for me, but it should serve you well enough."

He nods without truly understanding and carefully closes the weapon case before thumbing the clasps back in place.  "I know I don't have the munny for this yet, but can I keep this?  Take it back to the inn?"

"No."

Somewhat startled by the sharp reply, Seifer looks at me with a betrayed gaze.  "Why not?  You just said that this gunblade was going to be mine and I'll pledge to whatever god you worship that I'll pay you back the entire cost."

"What I _said_ was that the blade would be waiting for you once you're trained."

"I won't--"

I interrupt his retort.  "I know your type, Almasy.  It'll start with something simple like cleaning a smudge from the handle, and then it'll end with a bullet hole through the skull of some unlucky person in the room next to yours.  I'm sorry, but this weapon doesn't leave this store until I think you're ready for the responsibility.  End of discussion."

Seifer frowns in a typical teenager expression of 'I'm not a kid!' before reaching out to glide his fingers across the dark wood.  "You're a bastard, you know."

I shrug, accustomed to hearing worse from the blond.

"But I'll have this gunblade in my hands sooner than you think."

Glancing into his eyes and noting the determined edge of the soft jade, I figure that Hyperion's twin will be safe in his hands within a few weeks.  I doubt that he'd actually earn the blade by that time, but he'll convince me that he won't do anything dangerous with it.  He always manages to convince me that he won't do anything stupid even when I've learned a long time ago that everything Seifer does is tainted with his special sort of idiocy.

I look back to the hovering moogle.  "Moshi, please keep this weapon safe for a while longer."

"Of course!" she chirps, then grabbing onto the gunblade case and sliding it out from beneath Seifer's lingering hand.

I quickly add, "While you're back there, can you fetch the canvas bag resting in the corner?"

With a 'kupo' as her only response, Moshi eventually returns with the long and heavy bag, forced to drag it along the ground as her blue wings flutter madly.  Seeing her struggle with the bag of training weapons, I stride around the workbench to intercept her and take the handles from her paw-like hands.  With an easy swing, I place the canvas bag onto my back with both handles resting comfortably over my right shoulder.

"Anything else I can help you with?" the moogle asks in a panting breath.

"No, you've been a great help," I reply, interrupting Seifer as his mouth parts in an apparent request.  I can't assume what he thinks he wants, but I know to stop his thought process before he has the chance to flesh out the idea.  The practice blades heavy against my back, I make my way out of the moogle shop with Seifer a few reluctant paces behind me, acting like a boy being dragged out of a candy store.

From there we drop by Aerith's café just when she opens the door for the day, the young woman pleased to be serving someone who finishes the breakfast she cooks practically the moment after she sets it on his plate.  I barely manage to stop her from serving seconds and earn an irritated gaze from Seifer at my interference.  He doesn't seem to care that a heavy breakfast will only return to haunt him during a hard training session.  As we begin to leave the café, Aerith hands me two small canisters of coffee and discreetly asks me to take it easy on Seifer.  Her expression is a sorrowful one when I tell her that there isn't enough time to be gentle.

The trip to the circular area beyond the restoration site is a quiet one, Seifer most likely fantasizing about wielding his gunblade in some glorious battle.  Hopefully some of those romantic dreams of his will be tempered by the end of our training today.

When we eventually step out from the mess of building materials, I'm not surprised to see the backside of spiky blond hair as Cloud leans against a low wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Hey, what is he doing here?" Seifer demands in a confused tone.

"Strife offered to help with your training.  Be grateful," I tell him while rounding the low brick wall that encloses most of the wide circular area once meant for a meeting ground for those who trained under Ansem in the long past.  Cloud glances up when I approach and promptly reaches for one of the canisters in my hold.  It's a lucky thing Aerith has a second sense when it comes to knowing when Cloud and I have decided to spar this early in the morning.

"Hn, is he good like you?"

Cloud and I share a subtle glance before I decide to reply, "He's good enough, I suppose."

The spiky-haired blond scoffs into his coffee, but doesn't try to argue with his typical dry comeback, not this early in the morning.  It's not that he isn't accustomed to waking up along with me at the crack of dawn, but his brain tends to take an hour or so before it realizes that the body is up and moving.  It's incredible to me that he can spar at full strength long before he'll utter his first words of the morning.

I lay the canvas bag onto the ground, the sound of clunking wood drawing the gaze of intense sapphire as Cloud stares down with unseeing eyes.  I don't know what memories have been sparked by the recognition of the practice weapons hidden within the large bag, but I can understand the feeling.  We all started the same - kids with no knowledge of a blade being handed a wooden sword - and we all have our own memories of that first time holding a practice blade in our soft hands.  One day I should ask Cloud what training was like in his lost world, but given the number of ghosts in his past, I don't want to accidentally stir up the wrong demons.

"So, what's the plan?" Seifer asks as he stretches his arms over his head, revealing even more skin as his too small vest rides up along his taut abdomen.  Hyne, I need to get this kid clothing that actually _fits_.

"You're going to sit and watch," I say while stealing a last sip of coffee from my canister.  "Try to focus on how I hold the blade and where I position my feet."

Setting aside the remaining coffee on the low wall, I step out to the middle of the wide circle and remove Lion Heart from its holster, the action igniting thoughts of the necessity to purchase Seifer a similar holster that would accommodate Hyperion's twin.  As I think about types of materials and designs for the important piece of equipment, my arms move by their own accord, guiding the heavy gunblade in random loops and swings that help to warm muscles this early in the morning.  Cloud doesn't follow me directly, his eyes half-closed as he savors his coffee.  Despite the casual attitude, his fingers twitch faintly along the metal canister, a clear sign that the spiky-haired man had stretched before our arrival and was quite anxious for a heavy spar.

Eventually recognizing the end of my routine, Cloud places his canister next to mine and pushes up from the low wall.  The stifled gasp from Seifer is an amusing one, the teenager getting his first real look at the sword Cloud sports.  Well, more of a thick sheet of tempered metal than what a normal person would call a "sword".  Swinging it from his back with a one-handed hold, the soldier lets the buster sword covered in bandages fall in front of him such that the long handle slaps against his waiting hand, the enormous blade coming to a perfect halt as it points towards my chest.

Words far from necessary and not even desired, I simply settle into a fighting stance with both hands firm around Lion Heart's hilt.  Our eyes meet briefly, silent judgment taking place as we assess the other's weaknesses for this particular morning.  One of his eyebrows rises in a curious arch, something that draws a reflexive frown from me, but it's pointless to try and guess the thoughts of the blond soldier.  Instead, I focus on the sudden sway of loose bandages, signaling the slight dip of the buster blade and Cloud's intention to start with a hard lunge.  Despite reading his move, I barely sidestep the aggressive attack and don't have the opportunity to make a counterstrike before Cloud spins with his blade following in a smooth arc.

Forced into a defense mode, I mostly parry Cloud's unusually hard-hitting attacks as I'm driven backward.  I can't assume the reason for his aggressiveness aside from the earlier comment that he was 'good enough' at fighting, but Cloud isn't the hot-headed type to be goaded into battle with something that simple.  Unfortunate for me, I don't realize the herding nature of his attacks until I hear a sharp intake of air from Seifer, the teenager at most ten feet behind me.

Cloud pauses in his rapid series of lunges and sharp swings to offer me a half smile, one that causes a small shiver down my spine as the dark madness within his soul flickers behind sapphire eyes.  Time slows when the blond soldier sprints forward, the loose bandage around his blade brushing against the bare skin of my right arm as Cloud, without apparent reason or warning, sidesteps me entirely.  Turning, I note with horror that Cloud had changed his target to Seifer, and not in a friendly 'scare the shit out of the rookie' way.  I act before true thought, forcing my body to move through the abruptly sludge-like air that makes my movements feel slow and clumsy.  I watch the buster sword raise high, the stained bandages shifting along the blade, thirsty for new blood.  Entranced and motionless, Seifer stares at the weapon like someone eyeing a coiled serpent ready to strike.  It's painful to see that fear in his eyes, such young eyes.

The moment my arm encircles Cloud's throat, time snaps back into place, almost too fast as I jerk the soldier backward such that his blade falls short, landing just inches from booted feet.  Twisting around, I use the choke hold to throw Cloud behind me and place my body between him and Seifer.  I allow the man a moment to recover, but once his lips curl into a pleased smirk, I lose all sense of reason and restraint.

I move in close, satisfied when Cloud flinches in surprise at my speed, and launch a series of attacks I haven't used since the battle against Ultimecia, a battle that never happened except in my memory.  The soldier's stumbling blocks quickly gain a stronger edge, but that doesn't matter in my failing mindset.  Each defended attack adds more heat to my blood and adds that much more power to my determination to make Cloud suffer.  Forced back too many steps, Cloud fails to recognize his surroundings and stumbles on a brick that had been knocked loose during our last spar.  I act before the soldier even realizes his mistake, my feet leaving the ground as I prepare for a final attack against the unbalanced man.  The first strike is blocked, the second inadvertently parried by the lucky man, but the third lands home against chest, driving Cloud back a step before I aim and fire my gunblade.  Unbalanced and unprepared, Cloud twists in midair when he is hit and lands hard on his side, the buster sword crashing a fair distance from its master.

Knocking the sword out of reach from the grounded solider, I rest my smoking gunblade on my shoulder and glare down at the cocky bastard, silently questioning his motives.

"Holy shit..." Seifer whispers a short distance behind me and approaching.  "You... Did you _kill_ him?"

At the same moment of my scoff, Cloud chuckles breathily from his prone position, a hand carefully examining the armored shoulder that had received the brunt of the gunblade's shot.  "Leon doesn't make a habit of accidentally killing people."

" _Fucking shit,_ " Seifer swears in a startled tone, sounding much like he had seen a ghost.  "How are you still alive?  Do you need a doctor or... or a _priest_ or _something?_ "

"He'll live," I say while reaching into my jacket and retrieving a vial for the soldier.

Catching the tossed potion, Cloud huffs a laugh once reading the label.  "Only a high potion?  You do realize that you _shot_ me, right?"

Uninterested in his pain, I focus on the spiky-haired man while my finger lazily strokes Lion Heart's trigger.  "Why did you threaten Almasy?"

"Just curious, I suppose," he states with that same gleam of something darker before he downs the healing potion.  Moving to a seated position, Cloud reaches for his buster blade, forcing me to kick the weapon further from his reach.

"That isn't an answer, Strife."

Meeting my blue-gray gaze with far brighter eyes, Cloud stares for an intense moment before he concedes an explanation.  "You never seem to fight at your full potential, so I figured I'd see if 'Squall Leonhart' had more soul than 'Leon'.  The contrast is quite... exciting," he says with a curl of lips that I've only seen during our more desperate trysts.

The mention of my former name grates against my nerves, but I know the truth of his words.  It should be obvious that a person would fight harder and with more heart when there is something to protect, someone to love.  All of that was taken from me and I'm tired of patching the tears and holes in my soul, so I've resisted the deeper connections to this place, these people, and their causes.  I want a simple life and I'll help others to give me a chance of that life, but it makes each swing of the blade a little slower, a little softer to not have a real reason to put your heart into fighting.

Cloud reaches for his blade a second time and I don't stop him from retrieving the weapon.  Lifting the heavy sword, the bandages sag and slip from the hard metal, the cuts and tears from my previous attacks causing the stained fabric to fall to the brick ground.  At first surprised by the loss, Cloud then breaths a soft sigh as he strokes the naked blade.  "I suppose it was time for them to come off."

His defeated, yet relieved tone is a curious one, but I know better than to ask anything right now.  My blood is still simmering at Cloud's betrayal and I won't be able to listen him with the respect he needs.  I reluctantly holster my gunblade and turn to better face Seifer.  He's holding up fairly well, but I know his telltale signs - his right eye squints a little more than his left and the fingers of his right hand twitch as if clutching a weapon.  He feels threatened and I can't be certain if it was from Cloud's unexpected attack or from my near attempt of murder.

Noticing my gaze, Seifer asks guardedly, "Why am I here?"

"To train and learn how to defend yourself."

A strange laugh leaves the teen.  "And what exactly is after me that I have to learn defense from people like you?"

Despite his youth, despite being impulsive and easy to anger, Seifer never got the credit he deserved for his sharp intelligence and his knack for connecting the dots that no one else could see.  After all, he was the first to immediately figure out that something was different about me when the Time Compression had sent me into the past, back to a time when I could change things for the better.  I'll never forget when he had directed that damned Scan spell at me and his sea-green eyes looked up with a harshness that was typically reserved for strategizing a battle.  He knew me in that moment and I had nowhere to escape.

Impatient with my lacking response, Seifer prods further, "Am I right that something is after me?  I know I tried to blame you back in Twilight Town, but the fact remains that the demon dino tried to eat me first, not you.  The only problem with my theory is that I don't have a _fucking clue_ why someone would want to get rid of me... _Even so_..."

At the angered voice trailing off in uncertainty, I reluctantly tell him, "You're not wrong."

Green eyes go wide at the simple statement, fear shimmering briefly before Seifer controls himself.  "Shit, I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

Cloud abruptly stands up with a creak of leather and returns his buster sword to his back.  Walking between Seifer and me, he thumps a fisted hand against my shoulder in silent support, then mutters something about needing more coffee.

Left alone with Seifer, I avoid looking at the younger version of my husband when I give him the best explanation that I can offer at this time.  "That black star only we can see is actually a sorceress trapped in space.  She is the one who sent those demons to kill you and I imagine that she is fairly upset that you're still breathing."

"But _why?_   What the fuck did I do to piss of a sorceress?" Seifer demands as he steps in front of me, his long coat swaying at the sharp motion.

Unable to avert my gaze without drawing suspicion from the teen, my eyes glance over the body I once knew better than my own.  "You didn't do anything.  Unfortunately, you... resemble a man who was partly responsible for her imprisonment.  Ultimecia believes you are the same person and she'll make you suffer for his actions."

"Wait, so this woman wants me dead because I _look_ like a guy she wants dead?"

"You're underestimating the depth of her hate," I warn him as my hand automatically drifts to the handle of my gunblade.  "She had very detailed plans that took decades of research, years of development, and several months to enact... But all of those plans were ruined by two men.  Ultimecia wants her revenge and she has no reason to be rational about the matter."

Seifer scowls at my words, his sharp jade eyes squinted in fast thought.  "If I look like one of those men, then what's happening to the person who looks like the other guy?"

Unable to tell the truth, unable to lie, I simply stare forward with my standard empty expression.  Amazingly, the teenager still manages to read through it.

"Holy shit, it's _you_ , isn't it?  And not just someone who looks like a guy who fucked up that witch's life, but actually _you_."

"... I didn't say that."

"Maybe not, but you sure know a lot about a star that apparently only you and I can see," Seifer says with regrettable intelligence.

My eyes closed and a string of curses rattling in my mind (in the older Seifer's voice I might add), I wonder in what lifetime I may be able to hide _anything_ from this irritating man.  No, not a man.  A kid.  A kid with Seifer's face and eyes and patent smirk...  Hyne damn it all, why did _this_ Seifer have to be the same age as when I first started falling in love with him?

"What was he like?"

Startled by the question, I open my eyes to stare at Seifer, not quite certain I understand what he wants to know.

"The guy I look like," he clarifies while pulling down on the edge of his black ski cap.  "What was he like?"

I continue to stare at the young face, not wanting to answer, but the words leave me anyway: "He was an arrogant asshole who, amazingly, had the skill to back his words during a fight.  And he's the only man I've known who could either dominate a world or choose to save it depending on his motivation."

"... Sounds like you really respected him."

I scoff at the sore reality of that statement.  "He trained me.  Respect was something he liked beating into his students."

Green eyes widen in surprise.  "Wait, then that guy used a gunblade, too?"

Feeling like the conversation was about to lead into dangerous territory, I decide to attempt a distraction that should ensnare the youth.  "I didn't bring those practice swords here for us to talk all morning.  Did you want to learn something or not?"

Seifer stiffens with indecision, but sea-green eyes inevitably shift to the canvas bag lying on the ground next to Cloud's feet.  Eventually his lips slide into a familiar smirk and he places a fisted hand against his hip.  "Alright, play first.  Talk later."

"This isn't play," I grumble while escaping to collect the practice swords.

Reaching the low brick wall, I ignore the gaze of bright sapphire as Cloud glances over his canister of coffee at me.  Bastard, he's taking way too much pleasure in my pain.  I remove Lion Heart and its holster from my waist and rest the weapon close to Cloud before bending down to retrieve the canvas bag.  From the selection I brought, it's a simple matter to find the wooden swords that vaguely resemble Lion Heart and Hyperion.  There are other types of weapons in the bag in the event Seifer changes his mind about wielding a gunblade, something that isn't likely, but I like to be prepared for any possibility.

"Hey, isn't that like the gunblade you showed me in that weird shop?" Seifer asks when stepping close.

"It's a basic style, and while the weight distribution is the same, the gunblade you saw is longer and has a thinner blade," I explain while handing the practice sword to the blond teen.

Seifer takes the wooden weapon by the offered handle, his soft hand grasping the gunblade like an idiot novice.  The moment I release my hold, Seifer's arm drops several inches from the awkward weight of the weapon and he nearly drops it before his second hand steadies the gunblade.  If it had been the real thing, I imagine Seifer would've lost a toe or two when dropping the heavier weapon of specially forged metal.

"Shit, how do you make this thing look lighter than it is?" Seifer asks while eyeing me suspiciously, as if I had somehow snuck lead into the weapon when he wasn't looking.

I don't answer while stepping around him and to the middle of the open circle, the weight of a practice sword on my shoulder feeling strange and weak compared to the solid presence of Lion Heart.  Seifer follows behind me, still playing with his grip on the wooden gunblade to attempt a one-handed hold that would keep the blade level.  Hyne, I need to get some real muscle on this kid.

"First, we'll work on stances and basic handling skills.  The moment you complain about what I'm teaching you, we're done for the day.  Understood?"

Attempting a cocky stance, Seifer lifts the practice blade and rests the weapon against his shoulder, the pose not exactly natural.  "Whatever you say, Master Teacher."

After a quietly muttered 'Idiot,' I easily fall into the role of a trainer as I walk Seifer through the basics, pleased to note that he has some good skills amongst some very bad habits that he gained from Struggle Battles.  Overall, it's something to work with instead of starting from nothing.  We spend several hours on footwork and gunblade handling techniques, Seifer offering only slight hesitation toward the simpler routines he felt beneath him, but never a spoken word of complaint.  The hunger for strength shines in his eyes of harsh jade, a desire that would worry me if I weren't the one training him.

Eventually we reach the stage for a careful spar, not at any great speed and certainly not with any amount of force, but it better shows the purpose behind every basic move I had just demonstrated.  Seifer does a decent job at hiding his frustration toward the spar that is leagues beneath the battle I had shared with Cloud, but the longer we exchange hits and parries, the more desperate and clumsy his moves become.

"Enough," I eventually say before I strike the underside of his weapon and successfully disarm the exhausted teen.  Picking up the dropped practice sword, I place both of the blades against my shoulder and walk toward the low wall and the waiting soldier.

"Hey, wait a moment!  I can still do more," Seifer insists while rubbing his right wrist, most likely sore from my disarming attack.

"That's good to hear - I promised Cid that you'd be ready for work after lunch," I say while placing the practice blades into the canvas bag.

"You're still going to make me do construction work when you just admitted that a crazed sorceress is after my neck?  I should be training, not lugging around chunks of wood at some old guy's command."

"As I told you last night, heavy labor will build up your endurance and strength, not to mention earning some extra munny to cover your expenses," I remind the blond while tying off the bag.  "If you don't want to do it, then just tell me and I take you back home."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" Seifer growls at me, his green eyes bright with a defiant glare.  "From the moment you saved my ass, you've been dying to get rid of me.  I don't know what I did to piss you off, but I actually want to _learn_ from you, you asswipe, and I'll do whatever it takes to _make_ you teach me whether you like it not."

Stunned by the declaration, I stare at the teen without seeing much more than his eyes.  Hyne, I was an unthinking fool to bring this _boy_ into my world.

"Don't worry, kid," Cloud says, his first words in hours.  "Leon has no intention of letting some woman get her claws on you."

I turn sharply to glare at the blond soldier, tempted to punch the smirking man, but I manage to restrain myself at the knowledge that Cloud was most likely enjoying his moment of payback.  I suppose he has his right.  After all, today was the first time I've ever shot the guy.

Seifer scoffs peevishly.  "Why should he care?  Just because I look like someone he fought with?"

"Because you don't deserve your fate," I retort while glancing back at the young man.  When Seifer has nothing more to argue, I nod in the direction of the restoration area.  "Go get lunch.  Aerith will be happy to treat you to whatever you want.  By the time you're done, Cid will meet you at the café and introduce you to the construction crew.  I suggest being on your best behavior or they'll make your life hell."

"And what, you've made everything as cheery as a bottle of sunshine for me?"

Cloud breathes a laugh at Seifer's comment, something I don't find as amusing.  Eyes narrowed on the teen, I tell him helpfully, "I can make things even worse, if you'd like.  Then you'll realize how easy you have it right now."

Seifer returns the glare, but wisely says nothing for a change.  Instead, he adjusts his black ski cap and turns away with an angered energy that I remember all too well from our days back in Balamb Garden.  Such a kid, storming off when things don't go the way he wants.  At least it doesn't seem quite as childish with the flutter of his long trench coat, a reflection of the Sorceress Knight who never really existed.

"I think I like him."

I look over at the seated soldier, not overly comfortable with his quiet smile.  "You don't like anybody."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration," Cloud comments while adjusting his stance, unable to hide a wince from aggravated injuries.  "In any case, it's quite obvious that he's your light."

"No, he isn't.  He's a reflection of something that once shined, but was then lost for all times."

"Do you really believe that your love had a light that could be extinguished so easily?"

Teeth clenched at the soldier's gall, I argue lowly, "It wasn't exactly an 'easy' death to fight against shadows that wouldn't die and watch your entire world dissolve into darkness."

"I know," Cloud replies in a soft tone, forcing me to recall that he's the only other one who remembers a world before The Divide, a world that had been destroyed.  "But if you can't believe that your light has returned to you, then why should I believe your words that _my_ light exists somewhere in this universe."

Burying a gloved hand into my hair, I clutch at the dark strands and wonder why my few words always seem to come back to haunt me.  "It's different, Strife."

"I don't see how."

"Because I _had_ my light," I say with a more desperate edge than I had intended.  "I had Seifer when he was my partner and my husband and _this_ Seifer is nothing more than a kid.  I can't... _I can't_ go through the same pain that lead me to Seifer in the first place."

Cloud studies me with blue eyes bright in consideration, the glow of moving sapphire uncomfortably alien in nature.  After a short while, his pale lips slide into an intelligent smirk, but he doesn't voice any of his thoughts.  Instead, he pushes up from the low wall and starts walking in the direction of town.  Calling over his shoulder, Cloud tells me, "Good spar today, Leon.  It was fun seeing you actually fight for a change."

"Bastard," I mutter mostly to myself, Cloud already turning around the corner and beyond the walls of construction materials.  While I trust the man to let me handle my own affairs, that smirk of his worries me.  It's hard to imagine him doing anything stupid outside of a battlefield, but the two of us have gotten close, too close, over the past year.  And I know for a fact that I've called out Seifer's name on more than one occasion...

Hyne damn it all.  As long as the spiky-haired soldier doesn't get the girls involved, I can handle this.  Compared to the Lunar Cry, the Time Compression, and sealing Rinoa to her fate, this is nothing to worry about, nothing to strategize against, nothing to lose sleep over...

Absolutely nothing...

* * *

 

[Seifer]

Sore and prepared to die at any moment, I slump down onto crumbling stone and find a surprising comfortable position resting my shoulder against a damaged brick wall.  While I don't know the details, some kind of battle had happened here with Leon and Sora's crew, the resulting chaos creating to a giant hole in the 'Bailey' that views upon the wide canyon that leads to a castle in the distance.  It shouldn't be comfortable leaning against cracked stone while gazing at 'The Great Maw', but my body is too exhausted to tell the difference between rock and pillows.

For about two weeks, I've been subjected to torture of all forms.  From dawn until high noon, Leon has been merciless with his training regime, forcing me to test my abilities and daringness with every new technique he shows me.  Meanwhile, Strife finds great enjoyment with his role in my training, the bastard perfectly happy at any chance to hurt me.  After training and one of Aerith's lunches, my days have continued with Cid promptly kidnapping me for hard labor at the various restoration sites.  The work is tough and the old man is a loud mouthed asshole, but I have to admit that Leon wasn't kidding about construction work helping to build up my endurance levels.

The one saving grace is that the construction crews don't work on Sundays, so I have at least one afternoon free per week.  Last Sunday, I slept for at least fourteen hours.  Today I still have some energy left after training with Leon, but I doubt that I'll last to see the sunset.  Anymore, I feel like a toddler with a ridiculously early bedtime.

Bored with thoughts of training, I change my focus on the canyon to view upon the barely visible barrier that protects the city from the strange creatures people call 'Heartless' and 'Nobodies'.  I've only seen a ghost-like 'Dusk' once, the creature somehow slipping through the magical barrier undetected.  The thing was pathetically weak, Leon able to destroy the odd creature with a solid punch and a booted foot before it could cause trouble in town.  He should've let me try out my skills against the thing, but Leon continues to insist that I need more practical work before facing something that wants to kill me.  It's aggravating that he can only see me as some punk kid and not as a future gunblade master who can fight at his side.  If only I could prove myself...

"Don't even think it."

I jump at the unexpected voice and nearly fall back from my resting spot against the wall.  Even though I catch myself, I end up knocking my elbow against brick and it isn't a pleasant feeling.  Massaging the injured elbow, I glare over my shoulder at the pale-eyed intruder.  "Where the fuck did you come from?"

Leon shrugs and thumbs behind him toward the broken gate that leads from the Bailey and into town.  Glancing in that direction, I note the scattered gravel that should have added noise to the man's steps.  Either I'm too tired to even _hear_ when someone walks close or else this guy is more skilled than I can imagine.

"Alright, then _why_ are you here?  Were you so bored that you decided to find me and pretend that you can read my mind?"

Eyes of blue metal seem to stare right through me, something that is apparently possible given his reply: "You were considering to go beyond the barrier and test your skills against some of the Heartless and Nobodies wandering within the canyon."

"You can't know that," I declare too quickly, a guilty man protesting his innocence.

"I know your type," Leon argues, a common statement of his whenever he surprises me with his insight.  And then dead on cue, he averts his gaze to something harmless, something not me.  "If you want to get yourself killed, do it on someone else's watch."

"Right, because you know that I'm _so interested_ in losing my life to something that looks like a gimp in white leather."

Pale lips twitch slightly, whether from an unspoken rebuke or a defeated smile, I can't tell.  "Just stay where it's safe until Strife or I can chaperone you."

I stare at the dark-haired man, unable to believe what he just implied.  "Are you saying that you'll actually let me fight one of those creatures?"

"Eventually.  After you start using a real weapon."

Feeling more energetic than I have in days, I lean forward when prodding, "If that's the case, then when do I get to use my gunblade?"

Leon faces me, an eyebrow raised in an interested arch.  " _Your_ gunblade?"

"You said it was mine, so stop avoiding the question - when do I start training with it?"

He thinks for a moment, blue-iron eyes glancing over my bare arms while he considers his reply.  "Soon.  Right now, a real blade for our training sessions would exhaust you too quickly, but maybe in another week or two..."

Unable to temper my smile, I fight the urge to comment that I'm perfectly happy to spend the rest of the afternoon training if it meant getting that blade a few days sooner.  Though I haven't seen it since that one time, I can clearly envision every detail of the beauty - a sleek design made of dark metal, a gun handle crafted from solid workmanship, and sharp edge that would sing when slicing through air.  I've spent most of my life dreaming of a sword in my hand, but that gunblade is my reality and I'll do anything to have it in my hands.

"Don't forget the reason why you're training," Leon scolds lightly, obviously not impressed with my obvious eagerness.

"I know, I know.  So that I can defend myself from the evil space witch," I say with reflexive sarcasm, too afraid to consider what it actually means to be hunted by a sorceress.

Frowning, Leon hesitates before stepping close and kneeling down.  My eyes fly open when he places a gloved hand beneath my chin and focuses the full intensity of his storm-colored eyes on my face.  His voice quiet and firm, he tells me, "She is nothing more than a petty woman with pathetic plans for revenge and you _will not_ lose to her.  Understood?"

Stunned by the closeness of the man who has only touched me once before, by a chokehold nonetheless, I can do nothing more than agree with an unintentionally awed, "Understood."

While pale lips hardly move, Leon seems to smile when he nods and breaths a barely heard, "Good."

He begins to lean back and pulls away his hand, the lost connection suddenly unacceptable as I react without thought - I grab his fingers and hold on tight before he can escape.  "Why do you do that all of the time?"

Leon glares at my hand with a look that tries to set the flesh ablaze.  "Do what exactly?"

"Back off before you get too close.  It makes a guy feel diseased or something."

"I don't have time for--"

"Why is it only me?"

Straightening into a tense pose, Leon continues to look at nothing except my hand when he replies, "Sorry to disappoint you, but as a general rule, I don't like people getting too close.  They tend to get hurt."

I can't read his tone, whether he means he punishes people for invading his personal space or if he thinks of himself a cursed artifact that brings plague and disaster to those nearby.  Deciding to play it safe and assume the former case, I release his hand and retreat as far as the brick wall permits.  Leon, for his part, lifts up from his kneeling position, managing to make it seem natural and look nothing like the escape it was.

"Focus on your training, Almasy.  If you let yourself be distracted like this, then there's nothing I can do to save you."

I look away and glare at the vast canyon that appears almost blue from the collection of shadows.  "I wouldn't worry about that.  I'll steal all of your secrets and become the most fearsome knight this world has ever seen.  Not even Strife will be able to stop me."

With a quiet huff, Leon mutters, "Be careful when chasing after those romantic dreams.  You'll never see the cliff before you fall."

I don't bother looking back at the man for his comment, Leon already leaving with a soft click of boots on stone as he heads out for patrol.  It's fucking irritating that he seems to know my thoughts and critiques them as strongly as he evaluates my fighting stances and failed attacks during our spars.  What's wrong with wanting to be better and stronger?  Didn't Leon want the same when he was my age?  I can't imagine him being so skilled without something to drive him forward.

Eventually Leon appears in the distance, walking the perimeter of the barrier to check for weaknesses and stray monsters.  It's distracting to watch him move across the uneven cliffs, the dark-haired fighter quick and graceful as he moves at a steady pace that would cause anyone else to stumble and fall.  I've spent the last two weeks trying to understand Leon and his motivations, but the man is a sealed box on legs, happy to walk away the moment my questions hit too close to home.  He seems to truly pity my fate at being mistaken for a person that a blood-thirsty sorceress wants to kill, but beyond that, I can't shake the feeling that he despises me for some reason, something that isn't my fault.

The strangest thing of all - even though I recognize the hate he holds for me, I can't find the desire to hate him back.  It isn't like me and it's rather disturbing.

While most of my respect for him stems back to the day he rescued me from shadow monsters, I know that my true obsession started from the moment Strife raised his blade against me.  I have no doubt that the crazed soldier was perfectly prepared to kill me, that it wasn't some warped game of chicken.  No, Strife wanted to make it real, because nothing short of true danger would have made Leon react and, holy mother, did Leon react.  It was only a second, maybe a fraction of a second that I saw Leon's face from over Strife's shoulder and I'll never forget how Death looked back at me.

After that eternal moment, Leon released his inner demon and attacked with strikes that shouldn't have been blocked, _couldn't_ have been blocked by anyone other than Strife.  Leon tried to kill a trusted friend because the idiot had threatened my life, something that shouldn't have made any logical sense knowing Leon's distaste for my general presence.  But then Strife made the comment that it had been 'Squall' fighting, not 'Leon'.  Assuming the spiky-haired soldier knows what he talking about, it leads to a simple assumption - 'Leon' hates me, but 'Squall'... doesn't.  Right, not the most complete theory in the world, but I'm getting there.

Leon soon finishes his examination of the magical barrier along the canyon wall and continues toward to the next sector of his patrol, but my eyes don't follow him when he strides off.  Instead, I focus on the spot he had vacated and pale the sight of a raven-haired woman standing beyond the safety of the barrier.  Shock overwhelms me at the appearance of the woman who should have been quite obvious in her light blue outfit and, well, being the only other living creature down there aside from Leon, which makes it increasingly worrisome that he doesn't seem to be aware of her presence.

Even from this distance, I can tell that she has a porcelain beauty with a fine body and a girlish air as she stands there with hands clasped behind her back.  Leaning forward, she gazes at Leon for a long moment, watching him disappear around a large cliff.  She then straightens, and though it should be impossible, she turns to look up directly at me.  Golden light flashes from her eyes, a brightness that fades to a darker color when she unexpectedly smiles with false warmth and lifts a delicate hand to wave with a bend of fingers.

By the time I stumble to my feet and refocus on that spot, the woman is gone, vanished into thin air in the same manner as when she first appeared.  My fingernails clawing against brick, I scan the entire expanse of the canyon without seeing a single hair of the mysterious woman.  The only consolation is that she had appeared beyond the barrier... if she had existed at all.  I've been tired and it's not too crazy to believe that I had fallen asleep.  After all Leon, the same man who anticipates my every thought and move, didn't even flinch at her presence mere steps away from his position.  That fact alone seems too frightening to accept as reality and it's unsurprisingly more reassuring to think that I can dream with my eyes open rather than consider Leon as fallible.

Pushing from the damaged wall, I back away from the Bailey and slowly make my way into town, my thoughts turned to visiting the moogle shop and trying my luck with Moshi another time.  Maybe the sight of my promised gunblade will help to steady my nerves and prevent any future dreams of lovely women stalking Leon and mocking me from a distance.  Maybe...

* * *

Arms tight around my chest, I lay on my bed amongst the numerous pillows that always find their way back onto the mattress despite my daily attempts to hide the things from the maids.  My hair wet and my body cold from a recent shower, I simply stare at the door and try not to remember the dreams I've had over the past several nights.  All of them start in this very room and involve a very gorgeous and very _naked_ woman riding my cock with such zeal that I'm driven to distraction, and so overpowered by the scent and feel of the seductress, I don't recognize her hands around my throat until far too late.  Struggling against incredibly strong hands, I glance to the side and find Leon there, chained and beaten with thin tracks of tears slipping across dried blood.  My vision darkens such that piercing blue eyes are the last thing I see and the woman laughs with a school girl's delight at her success.

Shivering at the remembered sound of laughter, I curse at myself for thinking about the dreams when I knew it would lead to this.  I inch back into the pillows, my current guardians against the use of this bed for anything more than sleeping, not that I've gotten much of _that_ lately.  Leon has noticed the difference in me, but it's not like I can tell him that I'm having nightmares about being killed during sex.  Knowing my luck, Strife would overhear and mock me for the rest of my natural life.  No, that isn't an option.

I close my eyes and focus on memories of Leon using the gunblade named 'Lion Heart', a shimmering weapon of blue metal that compliments the brunet in more ways than I can count.  Much like a conductor leading an orchestra, Leon guides his weapon with smooth grace and sharp purpose, a perfect execution that I will never master myself, but I'm slowly learning how to disrupt the flows of his strikes until I'm given the opportunity for a counterattack.  I almost managed a well-timed lunge during our last spar, something that clearly surprised Leon when he was forced to sidestep the attack, but the move had unfortunately left me wide open and I now spot a dark bruise from where the fighter punched me in the side.  One of these days, I'll learn what it takes to get actual praise from the hardass instead of more bruises.

A soft whisper sounds, something between a quiet breeze and a song that makes me roll onto my back with the thought to check the window, but I resist the urge.  I can't bring myself to take my eyes off the door.  It's childish, but it makes me feel better to keep watch on the entrance to this room, as if it were only my sight on the lock that keeps it in place.

"Poor thing, aren't you tired?"

Startled, I jump up into a seated position and push back against the headboard with nowhere left to go, and the only thought in my head is that I was watching the door.  She should have come through the _fucking door_.

Rocking back and forth on her heels, the same young woman from last week stands at the foot of my bed.  Her angelic face is framed by silken raven hair highlighted with streaks of golden brown, the hairstyle drawing attention to her dark doe eyes and her sweet smile of lightly colored lips.  Her clothing is an odd assortment of a long pale blue coat without sleeves, a miniskirt that fails in its purpose given the biker shorts beneath the looser fabric, and black combat boots that appear shiny and unused.  Overall, she appears the typical twenty-something girl who had been living off Daddy's money - innocent about the world, beautiful with a manicured shine, and completely aware of the effect she has on men.

None of that explained why I was scared shitless at the idea of being alone with this woman in my room.

"Oh Seifer," she purrs with a pitying tone.  "What has happened to you here?  You look so young and so very... very _worthless_."

"... H-how do you know my name?"

Full lips pout in exaggerated thought when she replies, "Well, it has always been your name, so why would it change now?"

While her words are almost childlike, I can feel the hidden intelligence behind the empty expression and gentle tone.  "Alright, then why are you here?"

She leans forward with a bright smile and shining eyes.  "I'm here to help you, Seifer.  I know you're scared and so tired, but I can give you everything you have always wanted: the abilities of the greatest swordsmen in history, the strength to fight a hundred men, and the power to achieve your beautiful dreams.  You can have it all if you give me what I want, what I _need_."

I feel her words wrap around me and seep _into_ me like a fine wire twisting around my soul as it draws me toward her, both mentally and physically.  I crawl onto my knees, the unconscious movement knocking a pillow onto the bedside table, which subsequently pushes the lamp onto the ground.  The dull shatter of ceramic on hard wood wakes me from the woman's apparent spell, freeing me as I launch back into the bed's headboard.

" _No!_ " I yell out, the word torn from my throat.  "I'll do all of that myself!"

Eyes narrow in displeasure despite the woman's, no, the _sorceress'_ continued sham of a smile.  "It will take decades of your life to reach that point, if you can reach it at all."

"Leon will help me," I insist as I wish that I was wearing my hat, but it's probably a foolish hope to think that extra fabric over my ears would protect me from this siren's song.  Why the fuck didn't Leon mention that the witch could mess with thoughts as well as perform bone crushing magic?  It probably would've also helped to know that she looks like a damned supermodel and not the traditional green skinned, hooked nosed, and overall _lumpy_ witch I remember from childhood fairytales.

"'Leon'?" she asks in a thoughtful note as if she felt like she should know the name.  "There has never been a 'Leon'... No, no, there hasn't been 'Leon', but then 'Leon _hart_ ' is not a very creative boy, is he?  Did he truly believe that he could hide from me by using a name that isn't his?"

I stare at the raven-haired woman, somewhat lost by the one-sided discussion that didn't seem to involve me in the least.

Remembering my presence, the sorceress frowns at me with a concerned curl of lips.  "I'm so very disappointed in you, young knight.  What is it about that... _defiant_ child that draws you to his frozen fire?  He can't appreciate your potential.  In fact, he fears the very thing you are destined to become and will do anything to prevent you from obtaining greatness.  Does that sound like a man who can be trusted to teach you everything you want to learn?"

Unbidden thoughts come to mind, reminding me of how Leon has yet to train me with a true blade and constantly refuses to let me take my promised gunblade from the moogle shop.  Irritation and anger rise at his condescending treatment toward me, but even as those emotions burn in my chest, I know that it isn't true.  Leon only speaks down to me when I deserve it, everything he does stems from his desire to keep me safe from myself and others, and more than anything else, _he would kill for me_.

That final thought frees my mind from shadows, the sudden release causing me to inhale sharply and choke on air.  "... Fucking _bitch_..."

"How unfortunate," the raven-haired sorceress says with a sad look to her eyes.  "I was willing to spare your life to repay the loyalty you once showed me, but I see now that he has done something irreparable to your soul.  What a pity - you were such a handsome knight."

With nothing more useful at my disposal, I grab a pillow in each hand and toss them at the woman.  One misses completely to fly into the bathroom, but the other lands on its mark... and still vanishes into the bathroom when it passes through the brunette like a rock flying through smoke.  The vision of a woman wavers while she smiles at me, clearly amused by my useless attack.

"So impatient, young one, but fear not.  I'll find my way to you and when we truly meet, I will make you regret choosing him over me for a second time."

With her promise finished in a soft whisper resembling the sound of a breeze, the woman fades completely from view and leaves me feeling very un-alone and vulnerable despite her apparent inability to attack me until she returns in her physical form.  In the end, I have no desire to stick around and find out how powerful she is in her projected form.

I slide off the bed and quickly put on my boots while momentarily debating if it was actually a smart idea to leave this room and run to Leon.  It could be a trap, the woman wanting me out in the open or else hoping that I'd lead her to Leon... but neither option makes that much sense.  Even if Leon was being targeted, he can handle himself and should be warned about the bitch.  My decision made, I'm out the door and moving through town at a fast pace that I pretend isn't running.

I lose my way once in the darkness of night, but I eventually reach Leon's apartment and proceed to pound my fist on the door with the urgency of someone who thinks a werewolf is two steps behind.  When I spare a second to actually think, however, I realize that I probably should be equally worried about Leon's frame of mind when abruptly wakened from sleep and if he likes keeping his gunblade close to his bed.

Indeed, when the door jerks open to reveal the dark-haired fighter, the first thing I notice is Lion Heart glimmering at his side.  The second thing I notice is the master gunblader dressed in nothing more than black boxers.  I should be explaining myself at that moment, but I'm instead distracted by the exposed body covered in lean muscle and decorated with innumerable scars.  The one at his right shoulder is particularly harsh, a six-inch slash surrounded by deeply scarred skin.  It was an obvious assumption that Leon has seen many battles in his lifetime, but to see the evidence directly in front of me...

" _Almasy_."

I jerk back at the hissed voice, Leon's expression suggesting that he had been trying to get my attention for a while.

"Why are you here?" Leon demands in controlled tone that doesn't match the sight of his finger twitching at Lion Heart's trigger.

Returning his scowl, I lash back at him, "Sorry for interrupting your beauty sleep, but I thought you would like to know that some psycho sorceress appeared in my room and threatened to **kill** me because she _fucking hates you_."

His irritation fades to horror when Leon places a firm hand on my arm.  "Did she do anything to you?  Harm you in any way?"

Stunned at his ungloved touch and true concern for my safety, I gaze into storm-colored eyes and feel calmer at the knowledge that I had chosen correctly to ignore the promises of the seductive woman.  Eventually I manage to explain, "It wasn't really her, but some kind of... projection that couldn't touch anything.  It's probably why I'm still alive," I say, a conclusion that I had unconsciously avoided until this moment.  For good reason, too, as my body begins to shake in a most violent and embarrassing manner.

Leon exhales a relieved breath before he pulls me into his dimly lit apartment, something I don't resist until Leon flips on a light and I get my first look inside to see the sleep-rumbled soldier lounging on the narrow bed at the far wall.  Poorly hidden beneath thin sheets, Strife is obviously naked and not visibly concerned about the fact as he doesn't think to use the pillow as a more solid barrier.  Leon then walks past me to the kitchen area, revealing a fresh set of red marks behind his shoulder that still bears the faint impression of teeth.

I briefly consider that I should offer to leave, but my body is still shaking and I don't really _want_ to leave.  Thankfully, Leon doesn't seem to have any intention to kick me out, at least not yet.

"Have a seat and tell us everything."

I move to the chair Leon indicates, a simple metal chair with a thin blue cushion, and try to collect my thoughts to provide something useful for the pair of fighters.  "This woman - dark hair, dark eyes, fucking gorgeous - came out of nowhere, just _appeared_ in my room, and acted like she knew me somehow.  She damn well knew my name, but the way she said it..."  I shiver at the sorceress' possessive tone whenever she had called me her knight.  "It was like she thought she owned me and she kept trying to make me accept her promises that sounded way too much like a Devil's bargain - power and fame for the low, low price of my eternal soul."

"You didn't accept her offers?" Leon asks with muted surprise as he steps close with something in hand.

"I wanted to," I admit bitterly.  "I could feel her power and it was so tempting, but... It was strange.  I felt like if I accepted her offer, she would make me do something terrible.  And not 'ask', but ' _make_ ' me do her bidding whether I want to or not, and I'm pretty damn certain killing you was first on her list."

"Incredible," Leon whispers under his breath, and then hands me the mug he had carried from the kitchen.  "This should help your nerves."

I take the plain white mug without argument and stare into the steaming depths that smells of warm chocolate and something else.  After a testing sip, I straighten in surprise.  "There's alcohol in this."

"Just enough to take the edge off," Leon comments while continuing to look down at me, his eyes oddly bright in the dimly lit apartment.  "So you refused her.  I imagine that she didn't take it very well."

I cough out a laugh.  "She said that I'd regret choosing you over her."  Eyebrows furrowed in thought, I shake my head at the memory.  "No, she said I was choosing you for a _second_ _time_.  It didn't make much sense, but I suppose that she was confusing me with that other guy who helped you to fight her in the past."

Leon doesn't offer his opinion in the matter, but instead looks to Strife.  "If she can already project some of her power here, Ultimecia must have made a crack in her prison.  I can't predict how much time we have left, but she has obviously selected her target."

Strife nods while sliding off the bed.  "I'll go get the kid's stuff and bring it here."

I look away sharply from the naked soldier and focus my question on Leon.  "Why exactly is he getting my stuff?"

"You're staying here where I can protect you," Leon says without room for disagreement, but he doesn't seem overly pleased about it either.

"Are you sure I won't... be in the way?" I ask, trying my damnedest to not glance in Strife's direction.  I really don't need to see him bent over and displaying any interesting marks Leon had given him before I had interrupted... whatever they had been doing.  It damn well looks like sex, but I've never heard of two guys doing _that_ together.

"Of course you'll be in the way, but there's no other choice, so shut up and drink your hot chocolate."

With a zip of leather pants, Strife chuckles under his breath.  "Give the kid a break."

Leon scoffs, ignoring the suggestion.  "While you're out, leave a message at Merlin's that we need to have a meeting with him.  Something needs to be done about the town's defenses against dark magic."

"If anything can be done," Strife amends as he steps to the apartment entrance.  "I won't be too long, so don't start anything you can't finish."

Leon's eyes flash with the shine of sharpened metal, but he doesn't have the opportunity shoot back a reply when the door closes soundly behind the smirking soldier.  Still, the brunet glares at the door and mutters something under his breath that involves an act that is physically impossible, but knowing the man's sheer skill, I have a sickening feeling that Leon could make it possible.

With an abrupt sigh, Leon runs a hand through his choppy hair, the glint of gold catching my eye.  "Are you really okay?"

"... No.  Not really," I say while studying the ring on his fourth finger, wondering what fuck Leon was doing with Strife if there was a wife hidden somewhere.  "You know, you never warned me about magic that can warp your thoughts.  She almost had me convinced that you were out to prevent me from becoming the best fighter I can be."

"I would never do that," Leon says with quiet certainty.  "But I also won't allow her to use you for her own disturbed sense of destiny."

Feeling awkward with his protective tone, I turn my attention back to the mug in my hand and take a long sip of the hot chocolate, starting to really appreciate the mix of warmth and alcohol.

With nothing else to add himself, Leon steps to a closet and kneels down to retrieve an old futon, a set of sheets, and a blanket.  I stand up with the idea to help him, but Leon promptly glares at me with the clear message to sit and relax.  I follow the silent command, but with complete lack of grace as I drop back onto the chair, my head swaying at the rushed movement.  Apparently facing a sorceress after days of little sleep is quite taxing on a body.

I watch Leon prepare the futon with a practiced hand, the sheets folded neatly beneath the thin mattress.  It's almost surreal seeing this domestic side of the master gunblader, and then I find my eye attracted to that damned ring of his, igniting an assortment of questions in my head, foremost involving Strife.  Wanting answers, but not certain where to begin, I ask the first thing that I can place into words - "Why didn't you make Strife sleep on the floor?"

Leon pauses a moment before sitting back on his heels.  "Don't you think that would've been a little counterproductive?"

"Counterproductive how?"

A dark eyebrow lifts in a slight arch of surprise.  "Do I really need to answer that?"

Inevitable heat rises to my cheeks, something I try to hide behind the mug of hot chocolate.  "But you're both _guys_.  Sex doesn't work like that."

His eyebrow lifts even higher at my comment, promptly followed by a sharp laugh when he says, "Sorry to disappoint you, but sex isn't so complex that it can't be enjoyed by partners other than a man with a woman."

"But... _how_?"

"Circle peg in the circle hole theory," Leon states with a smirk.

It takes a full seven seconds before I realize what he means.  "You've got to be _shitting_ me.  Why would a guy put his dick in somebody's asshole?"

"It feels good.  Why else would we do it?"

I groan inwardly as I lift my mug even higher and press it against my forehead, efficiently hiding my face behind bent arms.  Holy mother, why do I always have to look like such a naive idiot in front of this guy?

"Are you being serious with these questions?"

I bite at my lower lip before saying, "I'm not stupid - I know about sex, but I've never heard about two guys doing it together."

"You know about sex," Leon repeats in a soft tone.  "Is that to say you're a virgin?"

"I'm fucking sixteen years old, you asswipe.  Of course I'm a virgin.  My mother didn't raise me to be some male whore."

Leon shows quiet surprise at my admission, and then shakes his head while muttering, "The difference a mother makes."  Before I have the chance to question his statement, Leon pushes up from the ground and steals the mug of mostly finished hot chocolate from my hand.  "You look like shit.  Try to get some sleep and don't worry about waking up early.  Ultimecia has moved faster than I predicted, which means the others should be involved with planning a defensive strategy.  Your training will have to wait until after that meeting."

"But shouldn't I be a part of that meeting, too?"

Leon studies me for a thoughtful second before nodding.  "It would be best.  My memories of her appearance have faded over the years."

Though I know I'm only being used for details about the sorceress, it helps some of my anxiety to have Leon include me as a part of his team.  I'm not ready to roll over and let that bitch sorceress make me afraid of shadows, but I frankly don't know what to do against magic and mind control.  The best I can do is stick close to Leon's side and learn everything I can from him.  And if the prick tries to leave me behind... Well, let him try.

Moving the short distance from the chair to the prepared futon, I kick off my shoes, grab a pillow from Leon's bed and settle on the thin mattress.  The smell of leather and sweat beneath my head, I feel the exhaustion from my body seep into my mind and quiet the fears related to the dreams I've had over the past week.  While a childish thought, I can't imagine the sorceress attempting something with Leon watching over me.

"Hey, Leon..." I call out with failing energy.

Flipping off the lights, the brunet sounds a questioning grunt.

"I don't think I want to be a knight anymore."

"... Is that what she called you?  Her Knight?"

"... ..."

Leon sighs softly, probably knowing the answer before he had asked it.  "You don't belong to her.  And for your information, there are other people in this universe who could use a knight, so don't act prematurely when it comes to abandoning your dreams."

Eyelids already drifting close, I don't have the mindset to be irritated by the man's constant critique, something that has expanded beyond our daily training sessions.  Instead, I curl deeper into the blankets and grumble under my breath that I'll figure out something better than a knight, a status that will ensure I can fight at Leon's side in the future.  Maybe I can become a 'soldier' like Strife, whatever that involves.

Drifting into sleep, I almost imagine the soft caress of fingers against my hair and the whispered call of my name, and with that sign of kinder dreams for the night, I smile drowsily and succumb to the darkness.

 

{Continued}


	3. Chapter 3

[Squall]

I don't like this.  I don't like this at all.

"Uh oh," Yuffie singsongs from her seat on a floating chair.  "Leon is making his 'you're all idiots' look again."

Her announcement directs everyone's attention to my position leaning against the wall closest to the exit.  Cid chomps on his toothpick while eyeing me critically, Merlin strokes his long beard in considerate thought, Cloud smirks at the knowledge that only he knows, and Aerith sits with perfect posture in contrast to Yuffie's lazy sprawl.  I can also feel the sharp glare of green eyes from where Seifer sits on the floor, but it's too hard to face the boy and restrain my bothersome emotions at the same time.

"Leon," Aerith begins in her typical soothing tone, a voice that even strangers associate to a healing angel.  "I know you don't like putting others in danger, but if you want me to help you, I have to see what we are fighting against.  I've never met someone like this 'sorceress' of yours."

"She wants Almasy dead," I argue.  "How is using him as bait a good idea?"

Pity flickers in Aerith's eyes, but she insists, "I need to see this woman before she regains all of her strength.  If I understand you correctly, we can't simply assassinate her.  Her soul could invade one of us," she says while pointing between her and Yuffie, "or worse, maybe travel as far as finding Maleficent.  Give me the chance to see her and understand her soul before it's too dangerous for all of us."

"If you only need to see her, then let me go alone," I suggest.

"She doesn't want to face you yet," Seifer says in an almost bored tone.  At my glare, the teen tugs on the edge of his black hat before explaining.  "I told you all about how I first saw her at the Great Maw.  She was right in front of you and you never flinched.  If she was careful enough to be invisible to you at that point, then she won't be stupid enough to face you alone without good reason."

My teeth grinding, I resist to mention that Seifer's former status of Knight could be the reason why he saw Ultimecia while I was oblivious to her presence.  "She won't hide from me forever."

"Yeah, yeah, but all of us here know that she'd rather get her pretty little hands on me."  Green eyes bright with arrogance, Seifer flashes his best smirk and says, "I don't know why you're fighting so hard against this.  You and Strife will be there to save my neck.  Or is it a lie that you've already defeated this sorceress once?"

"I didn't do it alone and we caught her by surprise."

"And isn't that the whole point?" Seifer asks while waving a hand at the others in the room.  "You're not alone and Aerith's powers should surprise the shit out of her."

I rub gloved fingers at the bridge of my nose, wondering what happened to the frightened teen from last night.  He had been shaking like a leaf in a storm, an understandable reaction after playing mind games with an aged sorceress and unbelievably winning.  The teen's nightmares had been worse, though.  For most of the night, Seifer whimpered in his sleep until I would finally give in and reach down to stroke his golden hair, the touch stealing him away from the sorceress' tainted dreams.  After all of that, I suppose Seifer has his right to want to face the sorceress and prove she doesn't control his life and fears, but I _really_ wish he wouldn't endanger his life in the process.  I reminds me a bit too much of the choices the old Seifer would make in such a situation.

"We'll keep the kid safe," Cloud says dully, the man's first words of the morning.  "Trust us."

I direct a withering glare at the spiky-haired man, not appreciating his input that places me in a no-win situation where either Seifer gets himself killed or I make the statement that I don't trust anyone here.  Hyne damn it all, it's not about trust.  It's about doing the smart thing, but no one here will see it that way.  And unfortunately, since I don't have a better idea with Estharian technology completely out of reach, I'm going to have to surrender to this madness and somehow make it work.

"Fine," I submit with a scowl.  "But I don't want Almasy helpless.  Give me a week to train him with a real blade."

I ignore Seifer's hopeful glance and focus my attention on Aerith, the young woman twisting her lips in deep thought before she looks to Cloud, the soldier offering a slight nod.  Aerith releases a long breath before saying, "Do you understand what you're asking, Leon?  Time may or may not make Seifer stronger, but it will most certainly give this sorceress time to regain her strength."

"I know, but for me to face Ultimecia, I can't afford to split my concentration between her and Almasy."

The hands in her lap folded in a tight squeeze, Aerith nods gravely at the statement.  "Very well, you have one week.  We will do our best to plan for worst case scenarios while you and Cloud prepare Seifer.  But Leon, please remember that she has already appeared once before..."

I reply when her voice trails off.  "Merlin has already agreed to strengthen the shields to prevent another uninvited visit.  Meanwhile, Almasy will be staying at my apartment from now on, so in the event Ultimecia appears for a second time, I'll be waiting for her arrival."

Aerith accepts my reasoning with another nod while Yuffie places a hand over her mouth, smothering her excitement at the announcement of Seifer's new living arrangements.  Cid grumbles from his seat in front of the computer, commenting on his ultimate goal to retire with his body in one piece.  Merlin taunts him for being a craven youngster, probably earning the toothpick spat into his beard.  Cloud watches all of it with a quiet fondness to his bright sapphire eyes, the reserved man forever awkward with his desire to interact with his odd family.

"If that's settled, then Almasy and I have work to do."  When no one objects, I turn and exit the wizard's house without waiting for the teen who is forced to scramble from his seated position.  Given only a moment of reviving fresh air, I'm soon joined by the blond youth who doesn't hide his irritation at being treated like a stray dog.  I suppose he has his right - it's not his fault for existing when I wish he didn't.

"So hey, I've got a question," Seifer says while keeping pace with my long stride.  When I don't discourage him, the teen tugs on the edge of his ski cap before asking, "How did that sorceress bitch know my name?"

"She's a sorceress," I reply after a slight pause, hoping that he'd accept the fact that magical beings have a way of finding information, whether it be names or hotel room numbers.

"I figured that at first, but I think it goes deeper than that.  When I asked her about it, she said that 'Seifer' has always been my name and there was no reason for it to change.  I thought she meant that it was always _my_ name, as in my name since birth, but I was thinking about it during the meeting and I got to wondering if she meant something...  something _more._ "

"Something more?" I question, though I already know the answer and I silently curse my luck that Seifer has figured out yet another inconvenient truth.

Green eyes stare at me, through me, and Seifer speaks with surprised certainty, "You fucking bastard, you've been lying all along.  I don't just 'look like' the guy who fought with you - I _am_ that guy, somehow.  Some kind of reincarnation bullshit, right?"  When I don't reply, Seifer stops short and refuses to follow me as I continue forward.  " _Answer me._   Tell me what this is _really about_."

I don't want to have this conversation, certainly not when Seifer is on the edge of a teenage temper tantrum, but I unfortunately need his cooperation if I'm going to save his life.  I slow to a stop and keep my back to the blond when I tell him, "This is about keeping you alive and safe."

"Me, or are you confusing me with that other 'Seifer'?"

"You aren't him, but that won't stop Ultimecia from using you to satisfy her desire for revenge."

"That's rather obvious after last night, but why should it matter to you?"

The quiet pang to his voice forces me to turn and face the young man.  Green eyes shine with a fierceness that the old Seifer would typically reserve for hard combat or rough sex, but this Seifer is less careful about saving his energy for the more important battles in life.  Placing a fist against my hip, I ask the impossible kid, "Are you suggesting that I should leave you alone to suffer the consequences of what happened in a different lifetime?"

Seifer straightens in part fear, his fast mind coming to the easy conclusion that he could never face the sorceress alone.  "No, that's not what I'm saying.  I just... I want to know that you're looking out for _me_."

An unintentional smirk comes to my lips.  "Of course I am.  If you were the Seifer I knew, it wouldn't be necessary for me to waste my time protecting your ass."

The teen stares at me for the brutally honest response, his green eyes bright with unspoken thoughts for a long moment before he places a hand on top of his head and lowers his hat to better hide the disappointment in his gaze.  "I understand."

"Good.  Then can we get back to the business at hand?"

Seifer nods, apparently speechless for a change.

I turn sharply and continue on my previous path to the moogle shop located in the main city area.  I don't initially hear Seifer's footsteps, the teen hesitating before he follows me at distance.  Hyne damn it, I can't handle this.  For every reason that exists to prove this isn't Seifer, I'm instead reminded of the things that made me love the man: sharp intellect smothered by arrogance, crude wit that leaves no one safe, and romantic dreams made possible by pure determination.

It's cruel fate to have Seifer reenter my life, especially when it makes me remember why I needed him in the first place.

... And if I wanted to be honest with myself, why I may need him now.

Lost in unwanted thoughts, I nearly walk past the small store as I instinctively want to expend some energy in the training area beyond the restoration zone.  With a quiet jingle of a bell, I enter the moogle shop and ignore the high-pitched welcomes from the various fluttering creatures.  By the time I find Moshi, Seifer steps inside the shop and surprisingly greets several of the moogles by name, an event that instantly worries me.  When Moshi flies right past me to welcome Seifer with a cheerful 'kupo', I purposefully block out the thoughts of what dangers can take place with Seifer befriending magical creatures that occasionally make weapons for no cost under the right conditions.

"Seifer!" Moshi cheers as the teen scratches under her chin.  "Is Leon letting you take your blade home?"

His easy smirk returned, Seifer eyes me before saying, "Yeah, _finally_.  Though I guess it helps that I'm now staying with the prude.  I won't be able to play with the beauty like I'd want to with him watching my every move."

"A gunblade isn't a toy to be played with," I remind him.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he taunts before asking Moshi pleasantly, "Can I have my blade, sweet thing?"

Blue wings fluttering madly, the moogle bounces once in a type of nod before rushing off to the back room to fetch the heavy gunblade case.  Meanwhile, I cross my arms over my chest and glare questioningly at the golden-haired teen.  Seifer grins back at me with practiced innocence, but doesn't say anything as his attention is immediately distracted by the thump of his gunblade being placed onto the countertop.  He steps to the counter, placing himself at my side when he brushes his fingers along the dark wood in a move mimicking the first time he saw the blade.

"Have you named it yet?" I ask softly, remembering a time when Seifer was the one to tell me that every respectable weapon deserved a name, something I didn't understand until I first set eyes on Lion Heart.

Green eyes bright, Seifer continues to stare at the unopened case when he says, "I thought that you may have already named it."

"Of course not.  That's something for the owner of the of blade to decide."

Lips curling into a childlike smile, he opens the wooden case to reveal the long blade made of dark metal.  He reaches out a hand to hover above the gunblade, his fingers twitching in the desire to hold the dangerous weapon.  "Helios."

I nearly choke on my breath at his choice, a name that isn't as damning as 'Hyperion', but almost worse with Helios being the Titan's son per legend.  Hyne, why does everything come back to haunt me like this?

"Is there something wrong with the name?"

With a glance into concerned green eyes, I realize that I've become a dramatic fool who has given the Fates more credit than they deserve.  That group of old hags would be more interested in a new pair of scissors than a gunblade's _name_ , after all. "No, it's fine.  I was simply surprised that you chose something suitable."

Seifer frowns slightly, not believing me, but he has nothing to prove his suspicion.

"We should go," I say while turning toward the entrance.  "Moshi, thank you for your hard work."

While the blue-winged moogle chirps a proud 'kupo' in response, I make my way for the exit without waiting for the blond.  Stepping out into the sunlight, I pause briefly to glance up at the sky and focus on the dark star that has gained a menacing aura since I last looked at the damned thing.  A part of me wishes that it was only my imagination, but if Seifer was truthful in his account last night, then Ultimecia must be furious at his betrayal.

With a loud bump and a harsh curse, Seifer stumbles out from the moogle shop with his gunblade case in hand, the bulky item not quite obeying his attempts to navigate it through the small entrance.  Once free of the doorway, he glances at me and doesn't hide his surprise that I haven't already moved ahead to the postern.  I say nothing to his somewhat insulting reaction and instead turn my back to the youth before continuing on the path that leads outside of the main city.

Seifer doesn't break the silence between us, the teen awkwardly lugging the wooden gunblade case without complaint, a rare event for the bothersome blond.  But that may be unfair - it was the previous Seifer who couldn't shut up for more than several minutes at a time, his history at the orphanage teaching him that getting Matron's attention meant being the most vocal in the room.  This Seifer has learned caution from somewhere, a lesson that makes him too quiet at times, especially when faced something he doesn't know how to handle.  More interesting is his habit of running off somewhere to think by himself, the teen usually finding a broken down spot where he can sit and think in peace.

Imagine, Seifer _thinking_ for a change.

In short time, we reach the training site and Cloud is already there waiting for us.  Sapphire eyes shine when the soldier spots the gunblade case, his lips curling into vague amusement at the sight of Seifer struggling with the heavy object.  For all of his harassment toward the kid, Cloud has grown fond of the determined youth, which is hardly good news for me.  The more he likes Seifer, the more risk I face with the soldier deciding that I should try another relationship with this shadow of my husband.  Hyne help me, I'm already too weak without additional attacks from unexpected angles.

Managing a dose of grace, Seifer places the gunblade case onto the low brick wall without damaging the wood surface.  Cloud moves beside the taller teen and watches as the case is opened with an excited hand.

"Nice blade," Cloud says with true praise, his gaze then shifting to me.  "Now I know who to ask if I ever need a new weapon."

I scoff.  "Moshi did most of the work, but for one of your outlandish blades, it would take all of the moogles to lift it, let alone make it."

Cloud grins at the thought before nodding in the direction of the gunblade.  "It's good, but it looks like it's missing something, though."

At Seifer's confused gaze, the soldier hands out a gunblade holster that he had been hiding behind his back.  The black leather shines with a newness that won't last long, but of more interest are the dark metal circles decorated along the holster that have etchings of fairly strong protective magic.  I knew Cloud wanted to be the one to gift the kid with a holster, but I didn't expect him to go this far.

"Holy _shit_ , is that really for me?" Seifer asks as he reaches out to examine the wards even though the teen only has remedial knowledge about magic.

"What would I do with something this small?" Cloud taunts while tossing the holster to ring it around Seifer's arm.  "And it won't help anyone to have you lugging around that case wherever you go."

Practically grinning from ear to ear, Seifer unbuckles the holster and places it beneath the folds of his pants to settle nicely around his waist.  Newly dubbed Helios is removed from its case and Seifer nearly slices off a finger while figuring out the best method to sheath the long gunblade.  Seeing the blade hanging such that its tip is a bare few inches from the ground, I silently give the kid a point for gaining the gunblade in less than a month, just as I expected from the cocky bastard.

With a nod toward the training circle, I tell him, "Let's break in that blade."

Seifer glances at me, his green eyes vivid with anticipation.  "Are you going to loan me some bullets?"

I scoff at his zealousness.  "As of right now, you'd sooner blow off your own toe before hitting a target.  Weapon control comes first.  Ammunition comes later."  I add a muttered, "A lot later," when I notice the shine of blood dripping from his thumb.  So, the idiot got closer to cutting off his fingers than I thought.

Seifer pouts once figuring out the direction of my gaze.  "It doesn't hurt," he claims before licking the blood from his thumb.  He then sticks the digit into his mouth and sucks at the sliced skin.

I turn my back to the sight that reminds me of far too many late mornings instigated by the master gunblader when he would 'demonstrate' his reasons as to why I didn't want to get out of bed.  With slow steps, I make my way to the center of the circle and remove the safety strap from Lion Heart's handle.  Seifer's booted steps on brick eventually sound behind me, the blond taking position as in our past training sessions.

Turning around, I grin at the teen attempting to remove his gunblade from his holster with a measure of grace, a failed endeavor by the sound of his expletive mutters that the blade didn't seem so long moments earlier.  I settle into a relaxed pose with one foot supporting my weight and my arms crossed over my chest.

"How long is this going to take?" I ask with amusement.

"You aren't helping, bastard.  How do you make this look so easy?"

"Practice," I reply, and then decide to show him the small amount of effort it should take to remove a gunblade from its sheath.

Glaring at the tip of Lion Heart pointed in his direction, Seifer mutters another 'bastard' before abandoning poise altogether to free Helios from its new holster.  As a minor miracle, he doesn't injure himself in the clumsy process of removing his gunblade.  His smile victorious, Seifer holds out Helios in a decent attack stance - his balance isn't quite right for the longer blade, but he'll figure that out soon enough.

"All right then, from the beginning," I say as step forward into an offensive stance and knock the tip of his blade with just enough force to make Seifer lose his hold on the handle.  Flipping on end as it falls, Helios lands with a loud clatter and its point directed at Seifer.  I scoff at the novice mistake.  "If you're going to drop your weapon--"

"Yeah, yeah, I _know -_ make certain it doesn't end up shooting you in the foot, too," Seifer interjects, his voice reflecting his bitterness at being taught the same lesson several times in the past few weeks.  "Damn it, I wasn't ready yet."

"And you think Ultimecia will wait until you're ready?"

Seifer frowns at the question, hesitating before bending over to retrieve the blade.  Without another word, he lifts Helios into a better position that balances its weight and he focuses solely on my eyes.  It's both a relief and a shame when something harsh replaces the young excitement in his green gaze, a sign that Seifer is ready to take today's lesson more seriously.  In all reality, a week isn't long enough for him to learn all of the lessons he would need to defend himself against a sorceress, but at least Seifer won't waste my time.  He will do his best or die trying and that's all I can ask of him.

"Then let's try this again," I say with a small step forward and another solid hit against Helios, this time Seifer managing to keep the blade in hand.

Practice continues from morning into mid-afternoon, the teen slowly succumbing to fatigue given the extra weight and awkward balance of his new gunblade.  Despite that, he gains quick confidence with using the edged weapon and defending himself against mine.  The minor slashes along his arms and sides are impressively ignored as he focuses on the next parry and the proper counterattack.  The idiot is so determined to continue our sparring lesson that I'm forced to harshly disarm the kid when he refuses to end on my command.

" _God **fuck!**_ " Seifer yells as Helios lands several feet to the side and spins in one complete circle before settling on the brick ground.  The gunblade, however, is the least of the teen's concern as he rapidly waves his right hand in a determined attempt to shake out the pain from his fingers.

As the blond curses with a vocabulary increased from his exposure to Cid, I return Lion Heart to its sheath and step in the direction of the seated soldier.  "We're done today.  You were expected at the construction site almost an hour ago and Cid isn't a man who forgives lateness.  Go get lunch from Aerith and I'll speak with--"

"Are you crazy?" Seifer demands from behind me.  "We only have a week to get ready to fight that sorceress bitch and you want me to continue working under the old man?"

I stop and turn just enough to look at the teen.  "Your job this week is to learn how to hold that blade and use it intelligently during a battle.  Strife and I can't be bothered to save you from whatever monsters that woman decides to summon, so you'll have to protect yourself while we focus on Ultimecia."

His scowl deep and angry, Seifer contends, "I can help.  I can fight at your side."

"You'll get yourself killed."

"I'm not worthless, damn it!" he argues with fists clenched at his sides.  "I want to fight with you!"

As common when I'm forced to confront the blond, I'm taken into his easy anger and feel the urge to react in kind.  "You want to fight a sorceress," I repeat lowly, the free magic of this world burning in my blood.  "Do you have any idea what that means?"

Taken aback by my tone, Seifer flinches subtly before admitting, "No, but you're supposed to be the one training me.  Tell me, _show_ me."

I feel my lips tighten into something that mimics a smile.  "If that's what you want."

Before Seifer has the opportunity consider the damage of his demands, I lift my right arm and flex back my hand to reveal a swirling ball of condensed fire.  Awe flickers in green eyes the moment before I release my hold on the eager flames and the Fire spell jets toward the oblivious teen.  Seifer appreciates his situation a moment too late and doesn't move in time to prevent the flames that singe his ridiculous hat and right ear, the rest of his body left unharmed.

"That's a fire spell Sora learned during his first day here.  It's basic, but it can still kill under the right conditions.  Or perhaps you'd like something flashier," I suggest while lifting my hand and snapping my fingers.  White lightning crashes from the cloudless skies and strikes the ground at Seifer's feet, encouraging the blond to do a comical dance of sorts to dodge the Thundaga spell.  It isn't much of a surprise when Seifer trips and lands on his ass.

"But you want to fight a _sorceress_ ," I remind with a tone that once earned me the title of Shiva's Lover.  "A sorceress wouldn't waste her energy on such childish magic."

For my final demonstration, I lift both hands to the sky and draw upon energy that this universe doesn't recognize and tries to resist, but my call is too strong for the spell I've used many times in the past.  Poisonous green light brightened by warm yellow rays twists above my hands, gradually forming into a large ball of energy that makes Seifer pale with instinctual fear toward the dangerous magic.  I eye the teen critically, tempted to have him feel the burn of unnatural magic as it seeps into his very soul and tries to steal away his life... But I was never good at attempting to kill Seifer, even when he was perfectly prepared to take my life.

The Ultima spell demanding for release, I angle my body to the lifeless area beyond the postern and throw the mass of energy toward a rock formation in the distance, destroying it in an instant.  The flash of golden-green light is followed by a rumbling sound that evokes more fear than the mere crash of thunder that comes with each lightning spell.  Seifer winces at the brutality of the Ultima spell, hopefully realizing that the spell was originally intended for his fragile and wholly mortal body.  He eventually faces me, his green eyes dark from mystified terror and tormented betrayal, but he says nothing from his fallen position.  He just stares and questions everything he has thus far assumed about me.

"I can't teach you how to fight that type of magic in a year, let alone a week," I tell Seifer softly, my anger disappearing with the need to have him understand.  "All I can do is give you enough techniques and enough power to stay alive when I can't be there for you."

His eyebrows furrow in consideration before he gently touches his ear, the red and charred skin reasonably sensitive to the touch, forcing him to jerk away his hand when the pain becomes too much.  Seifer stands abruptly at that point, his back turned when he retrieves Helios from the ground and manages to sheath the weapon without cutting himself.

"I get it," Seifer states dejectedly.  "I'll go to the construction site."

I nod in response, something the teen doesn't see as he hurries to the edge of the training circle and collects his gunblade case.  He leaves in hurried silence that I've never seen from my lost husband, but it has become all too common with this Seifer.  Hyne, why does this silence hurt more than when Seifer would curse at me for being a heartless bastard?

"Was that wise?" Cloud questions from his position at the low brick wall.

"Maybe not, but it's more important that he isn't deluded by his thoughts of nonexistent grandeur."

Cloud hums quietly in a manner that suggests he doesn't believe my words for a moment.

Sighing, I brush gloved fingers back through my hair and distractedly wonder if I've gained any gray hairs since I foolishly decided to travel to Twilight Town all those weeks ago.  "If Almasy thinks for one moment that he can face a sorceress, he'll get himself killed before we can act otherwise.  Or worse, Ultimecia will take him as a hostage and do everything in her power to make him suffer for his past and present betrayal.  And trust me, she can be very _intuitive_ when it comes to personalizing torture."

His sapphire eyes bright with thought, Cloud asks, "Does that mean this sorceress was the so-called 'dark magic' that influenced the former Seifer to hurt you and mark your body?"

"More or less," I reply, not particularly in the mood to explain the finer details of the events that I'd rather forget.

Cloud shifts slightly, his gaze drifting to where Seifer had disappeared into the restoration zone.  "Necessary or not, he may not forgive you for this."

The unexpected comment draws a frown from me.  "Why would you care?"

"Don't you remember - I like the kid," Cloud states with a slight smirk.

"I thought you would've gotten over that by now."

The soldier chuckles at my bitter reply.  "What can I say, he's interesting.  It's also been a long time that a kid like him has seen the monster in me and still treats me like a human being."

"... ..."

Tilting his head such that spiky hair shifts to the side, Cloud questions, "May I ask you something?"

The reflective desire to say 'no' is squashed as I remind myself that Cloud is probably the only man in this universe who would actually respect such an answer.  Fists held at my sides, I offer him a single nod in the slim chance that his question could be important.

The soldier doesn't start straight into his inquiry, his eyes momentarily distant while he considers his words.  "When you first brought the kid to this world and I connected his initials to those on your body, you told me that you had forgiven the man for his crimes against you.  There was no hesitation in your words.  It was a simple truth that you continued to love Seifer Almasy despite everything he had done."

My teeth grind at the unwanted discussion.  "I don't hear a question, Strife."

His eyes sympathetic, Cloud meets my gaze and asks, "If you can forgive him for treason and torture, why can't you forgive Seifer for coming back without his memories?"

I can only stare at the interfering man, hating everything that he is demanding from me with such a dangerous question.  "He's a boy."

"He couldn't afford to be a boy the moment your sorceress decided to target his life," he argues in a tone that says I should know better.

"He threw _pillows_ at Ultimecia when she threatened him."

Strife chuckles at the thought.  "Yes, well, given the fact that the kid hasn't had an ounce of formal training before you got your hands on him, it's quite impressive that he reacted at all.  I'd say he was being rather brave."

Growling at the soldier's determination to defend the idiot blond, I scratch my fingers through my hair in angered frustration.  "I don't care what you say, Strife.  It isn't easy or even _smart_ for me to accept Almasy back into my life."

"Hn, but you did say that Seifer is the sort who enjoys making the impossible happen."

I mutter a curse under my breath, hating how this bastard makes me say the most damning things.

Lips forming an amused grin, Cloud adds, "I don't understand why you're being so obstinate.  He's a good kid and it's obvious that he's very eager to please you."

My eyes narrow to a fine line at the implied manner Seifer would 'please' me.  "His focus is on training and I'm his instructor.  There's nothing more to it."

Though he voices nothing, the soldier's quirked smile prompts the suggestion that there _could_ be more, only if I allowed it to happen.

Feeling a headache building between my eyes, I rub the spot and declare, "We're done discussing this.  I need to return to my apartment for some rest before I meet with Aerith to begin our plans for this fool's mission."

Cloud smirks as he pushes up from the brick wall and steps directly in front of me.  "You'll make it work.  This isn't the first time that you've taken an idea and made it a reality," he says, his gaze then drifting to the buildings that tower in the short distance.

"I'm not responsible for the transformation of Hallow Bastion back into Radiant Garden."

The spiky-haired soldier breaths a laugh at my argument.  "Only you think that, Leon.  Everyone else knows better."

My headache growing with every second, I don't bother trying to dissuade this man of something I can't imagine he actually believes himself.  Cloud simply enjoys to taunt me with the hero-worship I abhor within this damned town, especially when I don't really care about the people like I should.  My reaction when protecting Seifer from Cloud's blade has proved that well enough.  To think, there have been hundreds upon hundreds of Heartless and Nobody attacks in both Traverse Town and Hallow Bastion, and yet it's been years since Lion Heart has sung with the thirst for blood.

Lowering my hand as it does nothing to relieve my headache, I decide to save these thoughts for another time.  "If you're here in the morning, I think Seifer could use some experience against your buster blade.  It'll give him the sense of power he'll face with some of the monsters Ultimecia may summon."

"You bring the coffee and I'll be happy to knock the kid off his feet."

"Try not to break any bones this time," I comment as I take my first steps toward the restoration zone.

The blond easily matches my stride.  "It was one time and nothing that a heavy cure spell couldn't fix."

I don't argue the point that I want Seifer stronger and smarter during a fight, not scared shitless to the point of uselessness.  The critique would only fall upon deaf ears, the spiky-haired soldier accustomed to harsher training conditions than what I experienced in Balamb Garden, even when Seifer was my trainer.  It's amazing Cloud that isn't more fucked up than what I have already seen.

The trip downtown is spent discussing various techniques to show the young gunblader, including the potential of skipping basic magic and to instead teach Seifer more relevant spells like Protect and Shell.  It's risky to ignore the proper hierarchy when learning magic, but there isn't enough time to play things as safe as I'd like.  Defense is most important for our current needs.  We can leave Seifer accidentally setting something on fire for another time.

Once in the town center, Cloud and I split ways as the soldier heads in the direction of Aerith's café and I continue toward the minor comforts of my apartment.  It was difficult to sleep last night, Ultimecia's visitation and Seifer's nightmares keeping me from anything that I could consider restful.  While I can only afford an hour or two of rest at most, I learned many years ago to get sleep whenever possible before a dangerous mission.  And when that mission involves me considering to let Seifer use live ammunition in the near future, I can't afford to be half-asleep if I'm going to dodge his stray bullets.

Hyne, I hate training kids.

~ > < ~

"These locations would give us the best defensive positions while providing cover to hide your presence," I tell Aerith while pointing at a detailed map of the Great Maw, the locations of interest marked with small flags.  Still at the café from his earlier visit, Cloud looks on with a hooded gaze from the raised stool next to mine.  "Ultimecia is too unpredictable for us to assume she'd appear when and where we want her to, but we can linger in the areas we prefer and give her the chance to 'surprise' us."

Standing behind the counter of her café, Aerith twists a lock of hair around her finger while contemplating the map before her.  Even though she sounded confident in her decision this morning, the young woman has shown her true colors to worry about everyone's safety with this mission.  "Wouldn't it be best to avoid traveling so far into the Maw?"

"Only if you want Ultimecia to think that we're planning something," I argue after a sip of her latest lemonade concoction that includes raspberries.  "She'll suspect us no matter, but this way, it'll appear that Almasy is getting some fighting experience."

Aerith continues to fuss with her hair, nearly placing the curly lock into her mouth.  "But you're assuming that she'll appear despite her weakened state.  Why risk herself if she won't be able to finish her revenge with a single attack?"

"Because Ultimecia craves information.  She knows Almasy is powerless, but she doesn't know my status.  With her kingdom lost and no minion to do her bidding, Ultimecia will have to see for herself what power she is up against."

The long-haired woman sighs at my explanation.  "You're right.  You're always right, but I--"

Interrupting her thought, the café door slams open with a clatter of the bell that normally announces the arrival of guests with a soft jingle.  Bent over with her hand on the door handle, Yuffie pants heavily for a few breaths before finally looking up.  " _Leon_ , thank goodness you're here!  Seifer... There's been an accident at the construction site."

Before I truly comprehend the words, I'm off the raised stool and running past the exhausted thief into the street.  I've always considered Radiant Garden to be a small town, but the distance between the café and the current construction site feels too far as my boots clap loudly against cobbled roads.  Turning a sharp corner, my rushed breaths slow and almost stop completely at the sight of a half-built structure crumpled to the ground.  Metal supports lie twisted from the weight of the fallen building, multi-colored bricks scatter across the street, and medics examine dust-covered workers for injuries - painfully clear signs of the destructive chaos that had taken place.

Once spotting a distinctive pair of pilot's goggles, I weave through the building ruins and befuddled bystanders to reach Cid.  Though surrounded by numerous people looking for instructions, the older man waves all of them aside at the sight of my approach.  Before I speak a single word, Cid thumbs toward the middle of the crumpled building and a collection of people removing chucks of brick and wood.

"Your kid is under that fucking mess.  He pushed a couple of guys out of the way, but didn't make it himself.  We're diggin' him out now and HEY, you fuckin' dipwads!" he yells at the workers in question.  "I said get 'im out, not cause more stuff to fall on the kid!  What the hell do ya think you're doing?!"

I hardly register Cid's insult toward the mixture of humans and other creatures, all of them dusty and several displaying bandages of some sort.  Stepping between them such that a few are forced out of my way, I stare at the pile of building materials and briefly wonder if Seifer could really be there.  But then I see a hand peeking out from the rubble, the thumb bearing a fresh cut from a sharp blade.

My hands spread, I cast an Aero spell and hold tight control over the wind spell as it slips beneath the timber and brick to slowly lift the material from the street below.  The rubble lifted into the air, Seifer's torn and filthy body is gradually revealed to the sunlight and I nearly lose control at the sight of his battered form.  Cid hurries past me while muttering a harsh curse about fools entranced by simple magic.  Ducking beneath the hovering debris, Cid grabs Seifer's arms and pulls the teen completely free of the collapsed building.  Once they are clear and behind me, I release the wind spell and watch as the material crashes onto the street where Seifer had been trapped.

"You know," Cid grumbles from behind me, "you're lucky that I trust you with magic and let you use it.  These other morons would've sooner caused a tornado of nails before savin' anyone from this mess."

"Are others trapped?" I ask despite my greater concern for Seifer.  I don't dare turn around, knowing that I'll be useless once my mind is focused on the sight of the injured youth.

The older man sighs.  "Yeah, but it ain't no concern of yours.  This idiot was under the worst of it.  We'll get the others without ya, so take care of this kid and let me get back to work."

I turn and direct a grateful look to the crude man, something Cid accepts with a stern huff before moving aside.  Kneeling at the vacated spot, I quickly examine Seifer's body for serious injuries, but find nothing more serious than some large splinters, heavy bruising and numerous cuts.  A thorough Scan spell finds a few fractured ribs, but amazingly, no broken bones or internal damage.

During my examination of his neck and spine, Seifer opens his eyes partway and tries to focus on me.  "Leon...?  What're you doin' 'ere?"

"Looking for injuries, so don't move."

He blinks slowly.  "S'rry... di'n't mean to... get hurt."

"Of course you didn't.  You never mean to get hurt," I tell him with a final Scan spell to his head.  A mild concussion.  No surprise there.

"Excuse me, Mr. Leon," a jaguar-looking cat addresses me, the peculiar addition of lipstick identifying her as female.  Dressed in a stained uniform, the apparent medic clutches nervously at the strap of her first-aid kit.  "We're taking people to the hospital and--"

"This one isn't yours," I state more harshly than I intended.  I could explain that a sorceress is out to kill him, that I'm proficient in healing arts, or _anything else_ that could make an ounce of logical sense, but I can't find it in me to explain away my necessity to keep Seifer close.  The teen's stealthy hand clutching onto my jacket certainly doesn't help matters.  "His injuries are minor and my apartment is stocked with a variety of potions."

The feline medic appears prepared to argue, but a weathered hand appears at her shoulder and Cid shakes his head at her annoyed gaze.  "Don't fight with the man.  Even if ya manage to get the kid into the bus, Leon will have 'im out of there 'fore you reach the hospital.  You have enough bodies to watch over without this one slowing ya down."

Though far from appeased by the former pilot's words, the spotted cat reluctantly nods her understanding.  "Fine, but if he turns for the worst, you know where to find us."

While Cid ushers away the feline medic, I turn my full attention to Seifer and gently pry his fingers from my jacket.  "I'm going to move you and it isn't going to be pleasant."

"Can't you cure me... like before?"

Knowing he meant when Cloud broke his arm, I shake my head.  "Any cure spell or potion I could use is nonspecific and would heal everything, flesh or bone.  With the amount of debris in your wounds, it'd only lead to infection and I've seen a man lose his arm because he cured an injury before cleaning it thoroughly."

Eyelids fluttering closed, Seifer visibly swallows before saying, "Right.  Do your worst."

I slip my arms beneath his back and legs, and before he can change his mind, I lift him to my chest.  Seifer groans at the movement and presses his face against my shoulder.  His pain unavoidable, I move carefully to my feet and hurry in the direction of my apartment.  Though we receive a few cautious stares from various pedestrians, nothing eventful happens in the short trip that ends when Seifer is forced to open the door with a sore and scratched hand.  It's a surprise, really, to discover the apartment empty and that no one had decided to offer their unwanted help, but occasionally Aerith and the others have a second sense to know when I'd react poorly to their good intentions.

The front door kicked close, I carry Seifer to the bathroom and help him to sit on the narrow counter, the teen regaining more clarity in the time it took to reach the apartment.  Seifer leans back against the mirror and moans while adjusting sore limbs.

"Man, you're stronger than you look," he says with a weak chuckle.

I glance over him briefly, realizing that he had managed to gain an inch or more during his past month here.  We were almost even height at our first meeting in Twilight Town, but it was a forgone conclusion that he'd gain another few inches to reach his previous height at seventeen, an age looming on the horizon for this kid.  Eventually Seifer will be six-foot-four and trying his damnedest to use that extra height over me, something that has never and will never work.

Stepping to the cabinet stock with first-aid items, I instruct the teen, "Take off your clothes."

"Uh, wha...?"

"I can't exactly clean your injuries through fabric," I explain while selecting the potions to use for cleaning and others for extensive healing.  "Get over yourself and strip."

Seifer doesn't move an inch, and when I turn around, I find him with his hand raised as he instinctively reaches for his nonexistent hat, the ski cap lost somewhere underneath timber and brick.  Trying to recover from his mistake, he rakes his fingers back through dusty hair.  "Any chance you'd let me treat my own wounds?"

"None," I announce.  "So either you take them off or I do it for you.  You can leave on your boxers if you're going to be so difficult about it."

With a wary glance, he asks, "It's... just for my injuries, right?"

"And what else in Hyne's name do you think I'll do to you?"

Seifer offers an embarrassed shrug before muttering, "Whatever you do with Strife when he's naked."

Hyne above, I knew him stumbling upon our tryst would lead to trouble.  "That has nothing to do with you.  Now, do you need help or not?"

Hesitantly, Seifer shakes his head and begins removing his jacket and vest, the sight of large splinters encouraging me to retrieve a set of forceps from the cabinet.  Meanwhile, his loosely laced boots are toed off and he unzips his pants to reveal plain white boxers.  He slips off the counter to remove the baggy clothing, the jerky move causing him to hiss in pain and place a hand against his heavily bruised side.

"Careful, you have fractured ribs," I warn before helping him back onto the counter.  "I'll give you something for that once I have a chance to clean the rest of your injuries."

Seifer doesn't reply, his expression still reflecting the pain of his injuries.  Deciding to get to work despite the youth, I slip off the loose pants that had fallen to around his thighs.  After removing my gloves and wetting a clean cloth in cold water, I carefully treat the worse of his injuries, most of which appearing along his arms left bare from his sleeveless jacket.

Eventually regaining his breath, Seifer wets a cloth for himself and wipes his face clean, careful of the bad cut just below his hairline.  His green eyes bright with a cat-like wariness, he watches as I move along his body, even twisting to look in the mirror when I focus on the split skin on his back.  The brunt of the damage cleaned within an hour, I move to his legs and remove two nails from the back of his right calf.

That being the last of the debris, I nod toward the potions lined next to the sink.  "Drink those starting with the one closest to you."

Seifer eyes the colored bottles.  "What are they?"

"Esuna will remove any infection and bacteria.  The restorative potions are ranked in strength, lowest first to make certain everything is healing properly.  If you don't feel anything wrong, finish it with a Hi-potion."

"You'd think it'd be easier than this."

"It's better than taking a couple of months to heal," I comment while standing.  "Once you finish those, take a shower.  You'll feel better after that."

Downing the Esuna, he winces at the bitter taste and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.  "Yeah, I'll do that."

I leave the teen to finish his business and close the bathroom door behind me.  My eyes immediately settle on the futon Seifer used during the night, mere inches from my own bed to prevent anything from getting between us.  Hyne, so much work has been put into place to keep Seifer safe from a vindictive sorceress and her demons, and yet I nearly lost him to a damned construction accident.  A construction accident I practically forced him into.

The sound of running water wakes me from disturbing thoughts and makes me realize that I should get comfortable while waiting for Seifer to finish his shower.  I take a seat at the foot of my bed and sit such that I stare down at my boots, the scuffed leather covered in dust.  I should be taking the moment to think and understand my actions in the past month or so, but my mind feels empty and unwilling to focus.  I vaguely recall being in a similar state shortly after regaining consciousness after Time Compression.  I had too many thoughts to think straight and I was exhausted by the knowledge of events that had yet to occur.  I felt like a ghost in a world I no longer belonged to and the one thing that pulled me through was...

"Hey, you okay?"

Startled, I look up to find the freshly cleaned teen standing in the open doorway to the bathroom.  Dressed in my white robe, Seifer looks strangely older with his wet hair hanging almost to his eyes and the robe partly open to reveal his hairless chest.  If I didn't know better, I would think he was trying to seduce me.

Seifer frowns with uncertainty before he pushes away from the doorway.  "Um, I don't know if it's normal, so I thought I'd ask, but that burn from this morning didn't heal like the rest of my cuts and bruises."

I move to my feet and step close to the slighter taller teen.  He admirably doesn't wince when I push aside wet hair and look at his right ear, the top half jagged with scarred skin.  Hyne, why didn't I think to offer him a potion before he stormed off after training?  "Curative magic works best on fresh injuries.  I'm afraid you're stuck with this scar."

With an odd smile, Seifer fingers the damaged flesh.  "Really?  Nothing will take it away?"

"Nothing short of cutting off your ear."

"Good.  I need the reminder."  The statement gains my attention, and once noticing my curious gaze, Seifer continues to explain, "While I was doing that boring ass construction work, I had plenty of time to think and I realized that I was acting like the stupid kid you and Strife always claim I am.  I got my hands on a real weapon and suddenly thought I could conquer the world or some shit like that.  You were right to do what you did, and frankly, it was pretty damn cool," he adds with an interested smile, the desire to learn the spells I used against him shining in his eyes.

I stare at him without reply, abruptly feeling exhausted by the weight of his trust in me and my actions.  I didn't mean to hurt him, not like this, and by all rights, I should have suffered the consequence of losing his confidence.

"So, when _do_ I get to learn magic?"

I fight back the smile that wants to form at his eagerness, Seifer an absolute magician at finding something of worth in every situation, good or bad.  "In time we'll teach you offensive magic.  For now, we need to focus on defense."

"Defense?  You mean there's magic to fight against that stuff you threw at me?"

"Not completely, but it'll dampen the force of the spells and may be the difference between life and death."

Seifer grins hungrily at the idea of practicing magic, something that was limited to fairy tales on his world.  "Can we start today?"

"You need rest."

"I feel great," Seifer states as he abruptly moves to his duffle bag and starts removing clean clothes.  "Give me a moment and I'll be ready to go."

His previous wariness is lost to excitement as the teen removes his robe and dresses directly in front of me.  The gashes and bruises are gone from his body as if never existing, a relieving sight after the mess he had been a short while ago.  As he hops into boxers and pants, I notice the better balance of muscles compared to when he first arrived and only his arms were strengthened to support him during 'Struggle Matches' or whatever they were called.  Daily practice and heavy construction work have helped to tone the still growing body and every day it becomes more difficult to remember that he's nothing but a shadow of my lost husband.

... No, that's not fair to call him a shadow.  This is Seifer with a different background, a kinder life that we always wished for as orphans.  I shouldn't resent him for having the one thing I'll never know despite the number of lives I have lived and may yet live through.  I shouldn't, but it's quite irritating that Seifer seems to have the Devil's luck when it comes to getting the things he wants.

Seifer throws on a faded t-shirt with the name of some band from his world, 'eThereal'.  It's a shirt I've seen before, but it still unnerves me to see the letter T replaced by a cross sword image.  "Alright, I'm ready to learn something good."

With a tired sigh, I remind him, "You do realize that you were suffering from a mild concussion earlier."

"Yeah?  But didn't one of those potions fix that?"

Knowing that I was defeated since the moment I mentioned teaching him magic, I nod in the direction of the door.  "I assume you left your blade some place safe at the construction site.  We'll retrieve that before moving to the posterns."

Seifer abruptly frowns at my comment.  "Wait, I just realized... Do they need our help over there?  I think there were three or four guys still in the building when it fell.  Did they find them?"

I study his eyes for a moment, interested to find worry for others in his gaze.  I bet that's another trait that was beaten into him by his mother since the previous man I knew was only concerned about his own interests and simply humored me with my need to save those unable to help themselves.  "Cid said he had it handled, but we can check with him first."

The teen nods with quiet relief.  "Thanks, I'd like that.  A few of those guys have been really cool and I want to make certain that they're okay."

I hold back a scoff, already learning from Cid over the weeks that Seifer had earned a soft spot in the hearts of the other workers.  Something about them finding humor in his determination to prove me wrong by handling more work than the reasonable amount expected of him.  Apparently it's highly amusing that anyone would think to cross me, let alone a kid like Seifer.

Seifer slips on his boots and doesn't bother to lace them per usual habit.  "Let's get going.  And maybe you can show me that wind spell that I heard Cid talking about?  The one you used to save me?"

"One step at a time, Almasy," I scold while moving ahead of him toward the door.  Hyne, this day just keeps getting longer and longer.

* * *

[Seifer]

With a warm sports drink in my hand, I sit in the shade on top of a smooth boulder and lean back against the high cliff, the chilled stone feeling great against the bare skin of my neck.  Today is the third day we've spent in the Great Maw and my nerves have started to fray while playing bait for a murderous sorceress.  My initial excitement at using Helios in true combat faded after the first twenty Heartless I had to kill on my own, Leon or Strife only stepping in if I was about to be blindsided by something with sharp claws and/or pointy teeth.  While Leon claims that my technique has improved with all of this legwork, I think he's finding more entertainment in watching me drown in my own arrogance.  Damn it, these monsters didn't seem so challenging when it was Leon fighting them.

After a few deep gulps of my drink, I stare across the way at Leon and Strife and bemoan the fact that I'm stuck with the two least talkative men in Radiant Garden.  Aerith is nearby, but given the effort to keep her presence unknown until needed, I can't strike up a conversation with the motherly woman.  So, with nothing better to do, I've taken up the habit of watching Leon.  It's nothing intentional, but given enough time, my eyes always drift in his direction until I end up staring for minutes on end.  Worse, as I focus on the master gunblader, I can't help but to think of ten days back when his bare hands were on my body, touching and massaging and--

"You're staring."

I choke on my breath at the amused voice, and after a few violent coughs, I glare at the man who loves to make me suffer.  "What do you want, Strife?"

The soldier shrugs, quite an endeavor given the oversized blade at his back.

"Fuck'tard," I mutter before finishing off my drink.

"You've spent too much time around Cid," Strife states with a light chuckle, and then leans back against the boulder I'm using as my seat.  "So, what's your favorite part?"

Confused, I stare at the back of his head.  "What, you mean with this field trip of ours?"

"No, I meant with the object of your obsession."

It takes a few seconds before I realize he means Leon.  "I'm not _obsessed_ ," I growl while tossing my empty bottle at Strife, the experienced soldier dodging the 'attack' with an easy sway.

Continuing without shame, Strife comments, "I'm partial to his hands, personally.  His fingers look delicate, but they are surprisingly strong and quite dexterous."

My mouth gaping and my cheeks flushed to an almost painful extent, I can only stare at the typically closed-mouth fighter.  Sure, Strife always taunts Leon for one thing or another and I'm the object of his sharp tongue during our spars, but this is the first time he has referenced his... _business_ between him and Leon.

Glancing back over his shoulder, Strife shows a bland expression that doesn't match the brightness of his unusual eyes.  "But I suppose you noticed that when Leon treated you after the construction accident.  Do you like being treated by him?"

I quickly look in Leon's direction and find the man unmoved from his previous position as he stares out across the Great Maw, diligently searching for any sign of the sorceress.  Returning my attention to Strife, I whisper harshly, "What do you think you're _doing_?"

He takes a moment to consider his answer before saying, "I'm having my fun before I lose him."

"Lose him?  Why, did you two have a fight or something?" I ask before I realize that I probably don't want to know what they would fight over.

Strife smirks at the question, but doesn't have the chance to answer when Leon pushes away from his lookout position and steps close to tell us that break time is over.  Sliding off from my rock, I take a moment to stretch before I notice Leon's eyes on me, a dark eyebrow lifted high.  Shit, I bet my blush hasn't faded much, but Leon's says nothing and instead directs a withering glare at Strife.  The soldier simply shrugs before heading off toward the next target zone for the day, leaving Leon behind to sigh at the wordless exchange.

Two target zones and about fifteen destroyed Heartless later, I wipe the sweat from my forehead and wish for the return of the hat I lost in the construction accident.  Once there are no other beasties around, I move Helios to rest on my shoulder, too tired to care if I look good doing the pose that nearly resulted in me slicing own my throat the first time I tried it.

"Hey, Leon," I call out to the dark-haired fighter leaning against a long dead tree.  "It's getting late.  Don't you think it's time to head back?"

Leon frowns slightly, the first sign of frustration from the man I've seen yet.

"It's not that I don't like the practice," I amend with real pride at being able to handle two to three Heartless or Nobodies at once, "but Aerith said that she's making sundaes tonight and I promised to show her how to make my mom's waffle cups."

The brunet blinks once at my comment before his lips curl into a fond smile and he mutters something about pies and berries.

My hand tightens at Helios' hilt, something about Leon's expression making me irritated in a nameless fashion.  I've been taunted enough times in the past for being a guy who knows too much about baking that I don't need Leon to make his own comments about how such knowledge could affect my fighting ability.  I'm not ashamed of the time I spent with my mother while making her latest recipe discovery, but just when I'm about to inform Leon of that fact, I stop short and stare forward without seeing anything.

In that fraction of a second, I wonder what I was thinking in the past to imagine myself as a skilled fighter when I couldn't sense the approach of something dark and unnatural.  It seems so obvious now, and as I step forward to turn with Helios held out in front of me, I face the portal of black mist without the same fear I had in the past.  Back then, it was fear of the unknown.  Right now, it's fear of knowing exactly how many ways I could be killed by whatever steps out from the portal.

A scaled head bursts out from the darkness and the ground shutters at its first step into this world.  Upright on two clawed feet, a dragon of midnight blue coloring and immense tattered wings stretches out with a deafening roar that does very funny things to my stomach.  While not as large as the T-rexaus that had attacked me in Twilight Town, this beast has a more intelligent air about it with the way it gazes down with glassy black eyes.

The dragon barely manages to swoop down its head for an attack when a dark blur rushes past me and Leon stabs Lion Heart into the scaled chest.  The beast roars, but doesn't appear out for the count when it lifts a stubby arm to claw at the brunet.  Leon easily ducks the swipe and then lifts his hand covered in bright blue light.  Spears of ice appear at Leon's summon and pierce into the dragon's head, shoulder, and stomach.  Without a final sound, the beast sways slightly before slumping to the side, Lion Heart removed as Leon keeps a strong hold on his weapon.

The silence after the dragon's death is broken by the sound of slow clapping, drawing everyone's attention to a woman seated on the back of an odd horse-like demon, its hooves replaced by claws and from its forehead is a horn that appears like a broken and rusted scythe.  Fuck, and I was just kidding when I wondered if murdering unicorns would appear from those damned portals.

"Such beautiful form," Ultimecia praises from her perch, looking just like she did last week - dressed in blue, smiling with pleasure, and absolutely fucking gorgeous.  "I wouldn't expect less from the man who has murdered me time and time again."

Leon says nothing while staring at the raven-haired woman, perhaps planning his next move, perhaps overwhelmed by thoughts of the past.  Meanwhile, Strife steps out from behind me and places himself at the master gunblader's side.

"I see that we have a new face amongst the old favorites," she says with a false pleasure, her dark eyes then shifting to me.  "Well, one of them isn't as old as it should be, but full of potential as ever."

"Enough, Ultimecia," Leon warns with Lion Heart grasped in a two-handed hold.  "He's not yours anymore."

"Now, now, why are you being so formal, Squally-poo?  Wouldn't you feel more comfortable calling me 'Rinoa'?"

"No," he states before dashing forward.

The sorceress' steed rears up at the attack, its forelegs pawing in the air at the dark-haired fighter.  Leon is forced to dodge the defensive flailing and Lion Heart swings upward to behead the demonic unicorn.  Her mount lost, Ultimecia lifts up from the creature and seemingly floats to the ground in a model-like pose with one foot crossed in front of the other and her hands flexed at her sides.  The stance doesn't last long, however, when Strife moves in with his buster blade swinging.  The sorceress steps back from the series of attacks, each fall of the immense sword parried by her hands covered with the iridescent light of a powerful Protect spell.  Strife ends his combination with a pleased grin, an unexpected expression given the fact that little to no damage had been caused to the lovely woman.

Smirking at the failed attack, Ultimecia twists her right hand and draws upon dark energy sparking with purple light.  At her snap of fingers, black lightning strikes out toward the spiky-haired soldier and nearly connects when Strife is forced into the hasty retreat.  Once again at Leon's side, the blond leans over and makes a comment that explains his earlier expression - the sorceress had used protective magic, which meant we weren't dealing with another projection.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," Ultimecia coos with her attention clearly focused on Leon.  "I haven't come here to fight you.  It's been so many years since our last meeting and I wished to talk."

Leon scoffs, a sentiment I share given her summons of a dragon to snack on me.  "Talk?  You never want to talk, witch."

"Oh, but I do," she says brightly.  "Especially when it's for something I want."

Her midnight-colored eyes are focused on me once more, but with a hungrier look that causes a violent shiver to travel down my spine.  She had called me worthless, even suggested that I could never match the skills of the Seifer before me, but something about her gaze makes me feel like she _wants_ me.  Wants me to the point that if she can't have me, then _no one_ will have me.

Leon shifts his stance in front of the deceivingly young woman.  "You're insane."

Ultimecia smiles brightly at the suggestion and nearly replies when, abruptly, her body goes very still and all humor vanishes from her face.  A snarl overcoming her features, she turns sharply and swings her arm in the direction of several pillars of rock.  Dust rises at the launched earth spell, and once connecting, the pillars vibrate and crumble at the force of her magic.  My breath catches at the sight of crude destruction and I'm not able to breathe again until the shine of a Protect spell breaks through the cloud of thick dust.

"Who are you?" Ultimecia demands in a strange voice, one that sounds nothing like the lovely woman up to this point.

Her smile secretive, Aerith steps lightly across gravel and broken rock while her spell shimmers brightly in the afternoon sun.  "Just a girl who knows a little magic."

While Strife grins at her appearance, Leon maintains a stern expression when asking, "Are we done?"

Aerith nods and reveals a wand-like object, the weapon abruptly expanding to become a tall staff.  "We're done."

Though Ultimecia shows initial irritation at being drawn into an apparent trap, the sorceress eventually regains her regal smile and directs an approving gaze to the master gunblader.  "It seems you have made some valuable friends in the time I've spent sleeping.  Troublesome, but I think that you'll find _my_ friends so much more useful..."

Her arms spread wide, dark portals of varying sizes begin to appear in all directions and demons are given entrance into this world.  Aerith shudders at the use of dark magic, but doesn't balk when faced with the decision to fight an inky glob with a gaping mouth.  Leon and Strife are forced to beat away attacking dragons, the last thing I notice before I'm drawn into my own battle against a pair of immense bugs that barely hold themselves up in the air.

The onslaught monsters serves its purpose as a distraction, the sorceress' presence nearly driven from my mind as I keep stingers dripping with poison from my throat.  Four bugs beaten and dead on the ground, I glance up to meet the gaze of deep brown eyes and I'm unable to look away from the woman standing easily fifty feet away.  It can't be chance that the space between us was clear of monsters and I probably should run, but I won't be fast enough to escape her insanity.  Her hands lift in a fashion I recognize from days ago when Leon used magic against me, her spell of choice painfully obvious.  Resignation threatens to overwhelm my actions, but I still manage to stutter out the spell for Shell, hoping that the fragile barrier could mean the difference between life and death.

The sorceress smiles with the same play of lips from when she called me worthless, and with the Ultima spell burning in her hands, she blows a mocking kiss before launching the spell in my direction.

So large, so bright, so loud... I never hear the approach of footsteps when a shadow dashes in front of me.

The Ultima spell breaks around the figure, momentarily giving the shadow angel-like wings of blinding light before the spell fades completely.  It takes several heart-pounding seconds before I can see properly and it isn't much of a surprise to be staring at Leon's back and the scarlet wings of his jacket.  Wisps of smoke lift from the tattered leather, but Leon doesn't show any weakness at being hit with the same spell that I've witnessed tear apart rock and earth.

"Horrid boy," Ultimecia states as she places a fist to her hip, the stance somewhat shaky compared to her previous poise.  "Perhaps you deserve something special."

Her piercing whistle makes me wince, but the purpose of her call makes me sick to my stomach.  At her side, a rotting zombie of a dog abruptly appears with half of its face lost to squirming maggots, its yellowed rib bones visible through paper-thin flesh and matted fur, and its weakly wagging tail attached by a few strings of muscle at most.  Worse is its lolling tongue, bloated in shape and dripping dark mucus-like salvia to the desert floor.

Ultimecia gazes fondly at the creature and says simply, "Get him, Angelo."

Faster than its bony legs should have allowed, the dog dashes straight for Leon.  The dark-haired fighter smirks oddly at the approaching demon, and without a second to waste, kicks with his booted foot straight for the dog's throat.  A sickening snap suggests a broken neck, but the injury means nothing to the undead beast as it continues to do everything in its power to serve its master.  Leon swing his blade at the demon, but the dog moves such that the weapon gets trapped within visible ribs.  Unbalanced, Leon doesn't move fast enough to avoid the beast's teeth latching onto his arm.

So entranced by the fight in front of me, I almost don't notice the flicker of light in the distance.  Looking up, I stare horrified at the sorceress bitch forming yet another Ultima spell.  It happens a lot faster this time and I have no skill to help the unknowing fighter, no ability beyond yelling as loud as I can.

" _Leon!_ "

The moment his head jerks up, Ultimecia releases her spell upon us.  The green light mixed with harsh yellow appears brighter this time, but Leon doesn't flinch or back away.  Instead, he uses Lion Heart to pry the demonic dog from his arm, the force of the move disconnecting the body from its head due to the already broken neck.  Though cursing his luck, Leon flings the beast's body into the center of the spell, disrupting its energy with a harsh crack of thunder.  Wide open to the aftershocks of the magical attack, Leon stumbles back against me and lingers for a moment too long for me to believe his front of strength.  Still, he soon stands by his own power and lifts Lion Heart in a challenging pose, a wholly strange sight given the dog's head still clamped onto his belted arm.

It comes to mind that this is insanity, that _nothing_ should be worth the price Leon is paying for his defiance against this merciless woman.  And even though that 'nothing' is my life, I can't imagine what is worthwhile about a kid who can hardly protect himself from a few large bugs and some lumbering shadows.  At this rate, it would be better if I...

A hand abruptly settles on my shoulder and I glance back at Aerith smiling gently with her hair in disarray and black smears marring her cheek and forehead.  "Just a little longer, okay?"

Embarrassed by my moment of despair, I nod once before turning back to find Strife mercifully at Leon's side.  The presence of the bastard soldier helps to calm my worries, though something tells me that Ultimecia hasn't given her worst and I don't want to know what other magic she can control.

Reassuming her girlish persona, Ultimecia breaths out such that her choppy bangs sway.  "Well, that was quite a workout, don't you think?  It's so nice to stretch the muscles after being locked in a _cage_ for years on end."

"You deserved worse than a prison, Ultimecia," Leon growls in return.

"Don't fool yourself, Squally-poo.  You know you can't kill me.  Unless," she purrs while glancing at Aerith, "you _want_ to give me that radiant body and all of its powers."

Strife is the first to respond, his buster blade held back as he boldly charges the slender woman.  Ultimecia reacts immediately, her right hand lifting up with an open palm.  A dark purple seal of some design appears beneath Strife's feet and a pillar of light pierces straight through the soldier, causing him to scream out and fall to his side several meters short of the sorceress.  Ultimecia sneers at the fallen man, but makes no other move as she cradles her arm to her chest.

"Foolish man," she says with disgust, her dark eyes then shifting back to Leon.  "Only you are patient enough despite your strength, but you have always been _untouchable_ to me.  I should destroy you here and now, but this universe bleeds too much magic.  By destroying you, I may destroy myself and that simply won't do."  A portal abruptly opens behind Ultimecia, and with a pleasant smile masking her darkness, she steps backward while suggesting, "Next time we meet, why not chose a more dramatic place to die?  As you know, I've always had a fondness for flowers."

Her noxious laugh lingers after the portal closes around her, taking her away to another place and, as far as I'm concerned, she can stay there.

Aerith rushes to Strife's side, the soldier moved to bent elbows and his wild glare focused on the empty air where Ultimecia had last stood.  With Strife tended to, I shakily sheath Helios and then take a step toward Leon with the vague notion to offer my help.  Without warning, Lion Heart abruptly slips from his hands, and after a dull bounce off the hard desert ground, Leon sways and falls to join his weapon.  Cursing, I sprint the last few meters between us and drop to my knees such that I slide right up next to the dark-haired fighter.

I move Leon onto his back and I'm surprised to find the dog's head still firmly attached to his left arm.  Deciding that the gook oozing from yellow fangs could be partially responsible for the man's collapse, I pry my fingers beneath sharp teeth at both sides of Leon's arm and force the surprisingly stubborn mouth open.  Once the injured arm is free, I toss the canine head to the side, but then nearly jump out of my skin when the demon attempts to snap at my retreating hand.  Its biting action bringing the head closer, I realize that unsheathing my blade while in a kneeling position would be quite impossible.  Deciding to suffer the consequences at a later time, I grab Lion Heart's hilt and lift the blade back over my head to swing the weapon down at the tenacious dog.  The skull sliced in two, an odd whine sounds in the moment before the two halves dissolve into black mist and disappear into nothingness.

"Count your blessings that Leon didn't see you do that."

Strife's voice nearly makes me drop the weapon from surprise.  "Fucking Hell, don't scare me like that."  Scowling at the man who looks worse for wear, I comment, "What are you doing walking around already?"

He scoffs while kneeling at Leon's other side.  "It was a cheap spell that steals away almost all of your energy.  No real lasting damage."

"As long as you get rest," Aerith scolds from behind the blond.  Her tone quickly softening, she asks, "How does he look?"

"Not good," Strife says while lifting Leon's injured arm and revealing the veins thickened with dark poison.  "Do you have a Remedy on you?  Spirits know what that mutt was infected with."

As Aerith hands him a potion that glows softly in the late afternoon light, I brush aside dark hair from Leon's forehead and frown at the lines of burn marks that cover his face and neck.  "Is he going to be okay?"

"Hn, he wouldn't dare die without being certain that you were safe," Strife answers with a completely serious expression, "but those Ultima spells are brutal when taken head on.  Smarter people dodge and take only part of the blow.  And that's not too mention whatever damage this poison is doing to him."

My body tenses at the guilt fueled by his casual words.  If I hadn't been here standing around like a lame duck, Leon would've been able to handle himself just fine against the sorceress bitch.  It's my fault that he's like this and I don't even have a potion to my name to take away the injuries I inadvertently caused.

A gloved hand sticky with unmentionable gook presses below my chin, forcing me to meet gazes with intense sapphire when Strife says, "Don't look like that when he wakes up.  You're the reason he's alive again and I don't want him regretting it."

Knocking aside his hand, I argue, "You keep saying that, but you're wrong.  Leon wants the guy before me and I have nothing to do with it."

An eyebrow lifted in an incredulous arc, Strife asks, "Then remind me again why he looks like a man trampled by a chocobo on fire?"

"It's for _him_ ," I insist.  "Not me."

"But what if you are him?"

I sit as tall as possible when I state in a clear voice, "I am _not_ him.  I'm Seifer Almasy from boring ass Twilight Town, and while it's not much, I'm not pathetic enough to pretend to be someone else."

Instead of being put out by my response, Strife smiles smugly, "And that's why he likes you."

Though irritated by the soldier's determination to fuck with me, I don't have the proper focus to continue with his game.  Looking down at Leon, I adjust his silver necklace so that it doesn't press too hard against his throat.  "Why isn't he waking up?"

"Because I don't want him to," Strife states without an ounce of shame.  Ignoring my horrified stare, the soldier slips an arm beneath the unconscious brunet and lifts him none too gently onto his shoulder opposite the one adorned with a heavy guard.  "It's just a Sleep spell, kid.  He has a bad habit of refusing treatment for potentially fatal injuries."

That being the extent of his explanation, I watch dumbly as Strife lifts up to his feet and starts walking in the direction of Radiant Garden.  Aerith flashes me a smile and nods her head toward the city before she chases after Strife while asking if he had been worried about her.  I almost stand before I notice Lion Heart still resting next to me.  I stare at the blade of blue metal, hesitating before I wrap my fingers around the decorated hilt.  Moving to my feet, I rest the gunblade on my shoulder and step without hurry after the others, my eyes unable to move away from the sight of Leon slumped over Strife's shoulder.

I never before realized how much the wings on his jacket look like stains of blood.

~ > < ~

Kneeling on the ground while resting my arms and head at the foot of Leon's bed, I stare sleepily at the man who hasn't been awake since the battle yesterday afternoon.  Aerith and Merlin had worked together to remove the hexed poison from his blood, the old wizard rambling on about zombies and 'ghastly magic' during the entire process.  Leon tried to wake at one point and was promptly subdued by another Sleep spell from both Strife and Aerith.  Once fully treated, Strife carried the brunet back to this apartment and locked the bathroom door behind them before cleaning sweat and desert dirt from the unconscious body.

It was hard to sleep last night with Leon passed out on his bed and Strife gone to his own apartment with the promise to return at some point this morning.  I got maybe an hour or two before moving into my current position half-lying on the bed while watching the dark-haired man sleep.  My right leg went numb some time ago, but I can't be bothered to move while lost in drowsy reflection.

So many thoughts have crossed my mind, some concerning my family and if they were upset at my desertion, others focused on the sorceress and why she escaped when she did.  But most of my night has been spent thinking about the man in front of me.  Many of those thoughts are nothing new - amazement toward his skill both with a blade and with magic, that quickly followed by disbelief that Leon's willing to waste those abilities to protect a kid like me.  But there are new thoughts with the old, most encouraged by Strife's stunt yesterday to bring up Leon's _hands_ , of all things.  And hell, it's not like I never noticed them before with the way Leon holds a weapon or when casting complex magic, but nothing compares to watching and _feeling_ his fingers on my body and caressing my skin with a healing touch.

... Shit, I can't afford to think of this again.  Back then, I had the pain of fractured bones and fucking _nails_ in my body to drive away any unintended reactions.  Now, I have nothing except the knowledge that Leon prefers men and how he looks while only wearing only boxers.

The click of a lock abruptly sounds, making me jump more from embarrassment at my thoughts than surprise alone.  Strife steps inside, his eyes glowing in the dim light of early morning when he glances at me.

"That doesn't look too comfortable," he comments while closing the door behind him and revealing a bag of foodstuffs, most likely breakfast with regards from Aerith.  "Are you hungry?"

"Not really," I mutter without moving from my position on the bed.

"He'll be all right, kid.  It was bad luck that the sorceress used necromancy, but now we know what to watch out for in the future."

I hum with skepticism at the statement, but don't bother putting words to my dislike of Leon nearly killing himself to protect my meager life.  Instead, my eyes are drawn to the golden ring visible at Leon's left hand and I'm prompted to ask, "Say, Strife, how much do you know about Leon's past?"

"Enough," he replies from the kitchen, placing some food on plates while the rest is shoved into the fridge.  "Why do you ask?"

I hesitate briefly, debating if Strife's future taunts are worth the information I want to know.  Unfortunately, the answer is yes.  "This ring of Leon's... He got it from the Seifer before me, didn't he?"

The soldier doesn't respond directly, though his movements in the kitchen have stopped.  "It's not really my place to say.  But whatever the answer may be, why would it matter to you?"

"Damn it, it's unfair," I complain, Strife's non-answer enough to tell me that I'm right to assume there had been something more between Leon and the other Seifer.  "No matter what I do, I've already lost.  I'll never compare to that fucking bastard."

"Hn, that's probably true."  At the blunt answer, I glance at the blond and find him smirking smugly as he leans back against the fridge, his arms crossed in front of his chest.  "So, when did you start liking Leon?"

"I don't like him, prick," I argue, but then make the poor choice of looking back at Leon's sleeping face.  Dark lashes contrast greatly against his pale cheeks and his chestnut-colored hair lies softly on his pillow and long neck, a warming sight that greatly contradicts his cold-hearted mercenary reputation.  My lips hardly moving, I quietly amend my statement with, "At least I don't think I do."

"I've heard that 'thought' has very little to do with love," Strife comments amusedly.

Cursing his inhuman hearing, I huff in irritation.  "I don't know anything about that... But I guess that could be the heart of the matter."

The soldier hums in question.

"Yeah right, like I'd tell you.  You're just going to mock me.  Why should I bother giving you ammunition?"

Strife shrugs in his typical manner.  "You've got someone else to talk to?"

The offhanded comment startles me with its harsh measure of truth.  Leon and Strife are the only ones I've actually _talked_ to in this damn place, the rest of the people nice enough, but no one I can be myself around.  I stare at the spiky-haired soldier to judge his intentions behind playing this game of 'confidant', but when nothing in the man's face gives him away, I breath a sigh of surrender.

"While I'm sure you'd laugh at the idea, I was pretty popular at my school and I've gotten more than my fair share of confessions.  A couple of the girls were cute enough for me to try the whole dating scene, but it always felt... flat, somehow.  I'd be with my girl, but thinking of other stuff like the next Struggle Battle or hanging out with my posse.  It was never _right._ "

Strife looks at me with his softly glowing eyes, appearing truly interested.  "What happened when a boy would confess to you?"

I snort at the idea.  "Guys aren't like that in Twilight Town.  Fuck, I didn't even know two guys _could_ be together until I saw you and Leon, and I still don't really get it."

"Maybe you were born on the wrong world," Strife muses, his suggestive tone not entirely upsetting.  Hell, I'm the idiot who has been watching Leon asleep for the past several hours, so I'm the first to doubt that the wiring in my brain is quite right.

As my fingers toy with the edge of the blanket, I briefly debate asking the foremost question in my mind.  Eventually deciding I was already this deep, I ask the blond, "What is it like, being with a guy and all?"

The corner of his mouth quirks into an almost smile.  "Sex is sex, mostly.  The mechanics are different, but the orgasm is the same."

"I never said that I've had sex," I say a bit irritably, uncertain if I should be proud or disgusted that both Leon and Strife had assumed I was experienced.

He blinks once and then chokes slightly, forced to cover his mouth with a fisted hand to hide the evidence of his laugh.  Catching my angry glare, Strife waves with the fingers of his raised hand.  "Sorry, it's hard to forget that you're from a different world.  When you learn to kill at a young age, sex doesn't seem as magical."

"I don't think it's 'magical' or anything, but it should be something... Well, _something_ for your first time."  As my thoughts drift to my mother and her hard lessons in life, I abruptly realize that my hand had moved such that my thumb strokes the scar between my eyes.  Trying to appear natural, I move my hand and trap it beneath my arm.

Strife stares at me with an expression somewhere between pity and envy.  "Thinking so leaves you open for greater disappointment."

"Or it gets you something more satisfying than an easy fuck," I argue.

A vague smirk sneaks into his expression and he leans back further against the fridge.  "If that's the case, then maybe I should explain it on a level you'll understand.  Compared to sex with a woman, sex between two men is a lot like sparring - it's hard and fast with a lot of grunting and sweating, and whenever you land a proper hit, it feels pretty damn amazing.  There's some pain on occasion, but nothing beats the rush of a final victory."

Feeling disconcerted by the way Strife's smile had shifted to something feral, I point out grimly, "You know, I don't know how much I like that analogy.  You broke my arm during one of our spar sessions."

"If you do it right, that's a risk with sex, too."

Already stunned by the man's bluntness, I'm pushed beyond that stage when a weary voice says, "Don't believe a word he says."

After a brief glance at half-opened eyes, I jerk back away from the bed and sit back on my heels in a stiff pose.  Leon, for his part, doesn't comment on my previous position and simply moves such that he sits upright on the mattress and leans partially on the adjacent wall.  A hand buried deep into his sleep-messed hair, Leon glares at me tiredly before directing a harsher look at the blond soldier.

Unbothered by the stare, Strife asks dryly, "When did you wake up?"

"Somewhere around magical sex," Leon replies crossly.  "How long have you been putting Sleep spells on me?"

"Just since the fight yesterday.  Though admittedly, it was a mistake when Aerith and I double teamed you."

The brunet scoffs in disbelief before glancing back at me.  "I didn't see... Were you wounded badly during the fight?"

The concerned shine of silver in his eyes stuns me momentarily, almost making me forget that I should offer a reply to the question.  "I got a few bites and was singed a little, but nothing major."

"Good," he says within a relieved sigh.

When nothing more is said, Strife comments, "There's food if you're hungry."

Leon nods and moves slowly off of the bed.  "We should have a meeting as soon as possible.  Gather everyone at Merlin's and I'll bring Almasy with me after we've had breakfast."

"If you want to be alone with a kid, you just have to ask," the soldier says with a completely straight face.

Without vocal warning, Leon steps sharply and places a hand around his friend's throat.  Strong fingers clamp around pale skin and Leon warns lowly, "I'll deal with you later."

Strife fights to maintain a smile despite his obvious pain, unable to speak given the choke hold.  His face turns vaguely purple before Leon releases his grip, first making certain to bang the soldier's head against the fridge.  Strife doesn't retaliate, but instead coughs in a fashion that sounds a little bit too much like a laugh.  The blond manages a smooth duck when Leon throws a half-hearted punch, and once a safe distance away from the angered man, Strife waves his goodbye and sends a wink in my direction before leaving the apartment.

Alone with me, Leon grumbles while grabbing two forks and placing them loudly onto the breakfast plates prepared earlier by Strife.  Stepping back to the bed, he shoves a plate in my direction in a manner that suggests refusal on my part would be very unwise.  We eat in silence for several bites and I do a good job of looking everywhere except at Leon.  Unfortunately, it doesn't last.

"Don't let Strife get you alone again.  Or one of the girls, for that matter."

Nearly choking on a bite of scrambled eggs, I manage a baffled, "What?  Why?"

"Because he is planning something and it can't lead to anything good."

I eye Leon for a long moment, uncertain if it's my general interest in the gunblade master that can't lead to anything good or if there's a valid concern with Strife's involvement in the matter.  Witnessing Strife's methods thus far, I'm inclined to believe that, for the first time, I'm not the worst of two evils.

After another pause for eating, Leon adds, "You did well yesterday."

I scoff.  "I could barely handle myself against a few bugs while you took on a spell-happy sorceress and a zombie dog.  That hardly compares."

"You kept yourself alive.  That's all I could hope for."  Though he downplays the statement by eating with a casual air, I hear the truth in his voice - Leon was afraid to lose me, more than he'd probably admit to anyone.  Especially not to me.

Forcing a cocky smile, I say, "Well, I chose a good instructor, so what else did you expect?"

Leon stops with his fork halfway lifted to his mouth and his eyes gain a haunted look as if seeing something he didn't like.  The loss of composure passes after a pained second and he finishes his bite before saying, "You don't want to know."

Acknowledging the reality that, yes, it would probably be safer to not know some of the things the gunblader has seen, I don't press the point and instead tell him, "I'm alive because you were there to save my ass.  I probably should thank you for that or something."

Once again pausing in his meal, Leon glances over at me with an almost surprised expression, as if he had forgotten that he was the one who had stepped between me and the sorceress.  He then shakes his head and comments, "Some things never change."

"Hey, I didn't mean to get into trouble."

His gaze wistful, Leon says, "And yet, events happened as they always do."

Confused by the remark, I look questioningly at the dark-haired man in hopes of a clearer explanation.  Instead, Leon stands up with his mostly finished plate and heads to the kitchen with a vague statement that he needed a shower before meeting with the others.  The plate set next to the sink, Leon steps to the bathroom, but stops at the doorway.

Never looking at me, he says, "I'm glad I was there this time."

And as I watch him escape into the bathroom, I reach up and finger my scarred ear while thinking of the question I can't ask Leon - "Does that mean you won't always be there for me?"

~ > < ~

The rest of my breakfast finished in silence, Leon and I make it to Merlin's house in time to watch Strife drag Yuffie in by the collar of her pajamas.  Strife dumps her onto a plush chair before he moves to lean against the wall behind her, apparently prepared to kick the chair as needed to keep the girl awake.  Already there, Aerith pours coffee for those attending the early morning meeting, which includes Cid grumbling next to his computer and Merlin absent mindedly stroking his beard while reading a floating book that appears to be upside down.  Leon takes his typical place near the door while leaning back against the wall, his arms already crossed and eyes momentarily closed in thought.  Meanwhile, I steal a non-floating chair and turn it around to sit with the back of the chair pressed against my chest.

"So, looks like you kids did good, bein' still alive and all," Cid comments while scratching at his morning stubble.

"We were lucky," Leon corrects, an unspoken 'I told you that I didn't like the plan' heard within his tone.  "Ultimecia wasn't as powerless as we hoped.  Instead, she had _too much_ power at her command."

"Too much?" Yuffie murmurs from her chair, her hands tight around a large cup of coffee.  "Then why didn't she knock off you and Seifer with an explodie spell or something?"

A dark eyebrow raises at the concept of an 'explodie' spell.  "There would've been too much backlash without someone to ground her connection with such wild magic.  She needs a Knight."

I stare at Leon for the statement.  "But wouldn't that be one of us?"

"It's nothing that selective," Leon explains.  "She'll want someone who won't combust at the first serious use of her magic, but there are enough 'worthy' fighters in this universe that it shouldn't take her long to find someone who suits her tastes."

"How long is 'long'?" I ask, not exactly excited with the idea of fighting that woman again in the near future.

Leon shrugs and looks to Aerith.  "Can we do anything with this time we've been given?"

With all attention focused on her, Aerith nods hesitantly.  "I think so.  When I touched her with my magic, I felt her soul's tenuous hold on this existence.  She's on the brink between life and death, and I believe that's the reason why she can call upon the creatures from your destroyed world.  That poor girl's body is nothing but a vessel--"

"Which may work in our favor," Merlin announces with a flourish as his floating book thumps loudly onto the table.  "The desert world of thieves, merchants, and ancient legends has many artifacts of cursed nature that are focused on trapping powerful souls.  Most certainly, one of these relics will match our needs."

Leon pinches the bridge of his nose.  "That would involve actually _going_ to Argrabah."

"But of course, my lad.  Items that have the ability to imprison souls can't be _made_ , not without condemning your own soul to such dark magic.  No, no, no, we can only use what already exists."

Leon sighs in defeat.  "I suppose nothing else can be done.  Let us know once you've found something of interest and we'll move from there."

Merlin nods distractedly, his attention already returned to the book of many squiggly words and very few pictures.

"If that's all...?" Leon prompts with the obvious desire to be somewhere else.

When no one else thinks of something to add, I raise my hand before I realize what I'm doing and silently berate myself for acting like a kid in school.  "I've got a question."  Gaining everyone's attention, I look to Leon and ask, "Is there a reason why that sorceress bitch seems confused about what to do with me?  One minute she's out to kill me, and then the next moment she says she wants me.  Or am I just imagining things?"

"Ultimecia wants to torment us in everyway possible," Leon reasons.  "Logic isn't involved."

"Seifer may have a point," Aerith argues while standing up from her chair.  Approaching me, she continues to explain, "Something about her soul is drawn to Seifer and it may benefit us to understand why."

Aerith reaches out and places a soothing hand at my cheek with her thumb brushing just below my eye.  Her gaze is questioning when she stares down at me, and though I don't know what I'm agreeing to, I nod at the silent request.  Like a breeze felt within my mind and body, her spell moves within me for no longer than a second, but she instantly frowns at whatever she discovers with her magic.

When nothing is said as Aerith continues to stare at me, I ask somewhat worriedly, "Is it bad?"

"I don't know.  There's something, but... Leon, perhaps this is something you would recognize?"

Leon scowls at me, as if I'm purposefully doing this to irritate him, but he still steps close to place his hand at the back of my neck.  Compared to Aerith's soft presence, Leon's magic feels like ice water trickling through my veins, an odd but not entirely unpleasant feeling when it last for a fraction of a second, ending with a hissed curse.

"This is impossible," Leon complains as he sharply removes his hand and places it deep into his hair.  "This is fucking _impossible_."

"Leon," Aerith attempts to sooth, but he shrugs off her consoling touch.

"No wonder she said that we had something she wants.  Hyne _damn it_ , why does this shit have to happen?"

Unsettled by Leon's outburst, I stand up from my chair and grab his raised arm, forcing him to face me.  "What's wrong with me?"

He meets my gaze for a long moment before announcing, "You have a... 'spirit' inside of you, something we called a 'guardian force' or GF.  I don't know how it got there, but it's dormant for now and it would be best to let it sleep."

"... You mean to say that there's something _living_ inside of me?"

Calm returning to blue-gray eyes, Leon fists his free hand around his silver pendant of a roaring lion.  "It's possible to survive just fine with a GF sleeping within you.  The problem comes when you try to command it and use its magic."

I stare at the dark-haired man, his mannerisms suggesting a worrisome idea - "You don't... I mean, could you have one... too?"

Leon tightens his hold on the pendant.  "His name is Griever."

"Holy shit," I whisper while jerking back my hand, as if the spirit within him would abruptly strike at the call of its name.

Leon breaths a chuckle.  "He's not an attack dog, just a tired soul.  Much like the one inside of you."

I press a hand to my chest and clutch at my shirt.  "Does... this one have a name?"

"I'm certain it does, but I don't recognize the spirit.  It may have been with the Seifer from my world and we never knew of its existence.  They are rather skilled at hiding, especially the stronger ones."

I stare at nothing for a time, startled by the idea of something hidden within me.  Nothing feels wrong or unusual, but I suppose that if this thing has been with me since the beginning, there's no reason for me to know any differently.  A hand rests my shoulder and I glance into stone-colored eyes, the firm gaze quieting some of my panicked thoughts.

"That GF resides within you because it likes something about you.  It can be your ally if you respect it, but not if you fear it."

I scoff at the suggestion.  "Easier said than done.  At least you know what's in you."

Leon doesn't argue, though his pale eyes continue to look at me with an intent gaze while he studies my face.  His hand lifts and almost goes high enough to touch my scarred ear, but Leon pulls away before that contact.  Haltingly, he turns and glares at Strife for some reason.  The soldier in turn cocks his head with the wordless question of 'what's the problem?'.  Leon's scowl deepens, but turns his head sharply to move toward the door.

"Ultimecia may have given us time to prepare, but she is gathering more power the longer she exists in this universe and when she finds a suitable Knight, she'll come back to take what she wants and then destroy everyone that could oppose her.  We need to be ready."  His hand on the door handle, he directs, "Merlin, let us know what help you need in your research.  Cid, speak with Chip and Dale about preparing a Gummi ship for travel to Agrabah.  Aerith and Yuffie, gather the supplies we will need depending on Merlin's information.  Understood?"

With the mixed collection of agreement from those in the room, Leon nods and leaves the house with no other words such that I'm forced to hurry after him.  I'm momentarily blinded by the brightness of the rising sun, and thus nearly run into the brunet who had stopped a few meters from Merlin's house.  His face angled up to the sky, Leon doesn't acknowledge my clumsiness while lost in whatever thoughts are bothering him.  In all reality, he has many unsettling thoughts to chose from, so I can't blame him much.

"I want to forgive," Leon eventually says, the statement not making any sense.  Just when I'm about to say so, another voice speaks out behind us.

"Nothing's stopping you."

I turn and stare at Strife for understanding the nonsensical comment.  He just smirks in return.

"This is a mess," Leon mutters and begins to walk away again.

I try to follow, but Strife grabs the collar of my jacket.  At my glare, he shakes his head and says, "Let him go.  He needs time to think."

I frown at the suggestion, my first thought being that Leon doesn't want me alone with this guy, but I don't have much choice when Strife starts walking in the opposite direction of the gunblader and doesn't release his hold on my jacket when doing so.  "Hey, let go!"

"Don't worry, kid.  I'm just going to show you some new fighting techniques without Leon around to baby you."

That doesn't sound overly promising.  "I don't have my blade."

"That's fine.  It's time you learned some hand-to-hand combat, anyway.  You aren't always going to have a weapon nearby."  A wolfish grin abruptly forms, Strife then adding, "I'll even teach you some moves that can be used both on and off of the battlefield."

Unable to break free, I stop struggling against his hold and surrender to the idea of Strife training me.  "Leon isn't going to like this, is he?"

"Not if you do it right, kid," Strife says with a deep chuckle.  "Not if you do it right."

 

{Continued}


	4. Chapter 4

[Squall]

Seated at a table that has seen better days and several bar fights, I glance around the restaurant filled with a perpetual blue haze and the distinctive scent of heavy spice.  By any definition, Zahrah is a seedy place with a predictable mix of patrons - a rowdy group of men in the back corner betting on a dice game, a scattering of questionable merchants speaking in low tones, and the town drunkard sleeping on top the bar area.  It's a place of quiet dealings and foolish gambles; it's no surprise that our contact wanted to meet us here.

"... and that's when I told her, 'Fuck that, honey bear, let's use the pilot's seat!'"

"Oh, _Cid,_ you didn't!"

"Course I did!  And if you want a tip, when you're surrounded by smooth metal, it's best to leave yer shoes on - more traction for the harder push."

Yuffie laughs loudly at the older man's account, the near guffaw drowning out Cloud's faint chuckle at the story which he and I have already heard once before during a scouting mission.  Meanwhile, Aerith shakes her head in light disapproval, probably concerned about Seifer's nonexistent innocence.  Granted, the teen claims he is a virgin, but his interested smirk at Cid's story proves that his mind leans toward the lewd even if his body hasn't put it to practice yet.

The six of us had arrived in Agrabah yesterday afternoon, which gave us plenty of time to purchase clothing more suited for the desert environment, not to mention the additional benefit of making us less conspicuous to the thieves and con artists in the area.  Once properly dressed, we had split ways to locate information about the Oasis of Last Return and quickly discovered that few people were willing to _speak_ of the cursed place, let alone give directions.  But where there is munny, there's a way, and one crafty entrepreneur was willing to risk the unlikely chance of being cursed in exchange for a small fortune.

It's not until the delivery of questionable food that I notice the arrival of the short peddler, a fast talking man who has quite a reputation in these parts.  While a merchant of dubious morals, he supposedly spins a good tale and sells his customers exactly what they want... depending on how carefully the request is worded.

I stand from my chair without a word to the others, only Seifer watching me when I leave to the bar area.  I try not to let the feel of green eyes on my back distract me as I approach the peddler struggling to mount a stool that is taller than his meager height.  It's a mild surprise when he makes it safely, even his ridiculously large turban remaining in place when he settles on the seat.  His small and bony hand pats the countertop, prompting the bartender to prepare his order without need of a vocal request.

I step next to the seated man, not bothering to take the stool next to him.  "Do you have the map?"

With a wide grin, he toys with his goatee.  "My friend, have you not just arrived?  Stay and enjoy the treasures of Zahrah.  Business can wait."

I glance around the restaurant, curious what 'treasures' could exist in such a dump.  It doesn't take long to notice the sight of two scantly clad women dancing directly behind Cid and Seifer, the pair of belly dancers effortlessly gaining their rapt attention while Aerith and Yuffie laugh at the obvious male response.  I scoff at the obvious game that has been put into action.

"I'm not interested in the offer of drinks or women or any other ploy you have designed to swindle more munny out of me.  You promised me a map," I state while reaching into my jacket and producing a bag of munny.  "Here's your price."

Though the shrewd man leans back to glimpse inside my jacket, he defends, "'Swindle'?  You are too harsh, foreign one.  I'm merely a simple merchant with simple desires."

Unmoved, I stare at the man and his unconvincing smile.

The peddler clears his throat and tries another predictable tactic, "I am embarrassed to admit this, but the map was... more difficult to obtain than I first thought."

"Not my problem."

The beady-eyed man poorly hides his disappointment at my continued inflexibility and snatches the bag of munny off the countertop.  He makes a show of bouncing the bag to judge its weight and glancing inside to make certain I wasn't the one scamming him.  Once assured that the correct amount had been paid, he reaches inside a pouch hanging off his belt and reveals a scroll.

"As agreed," the peddler states peevishly while offering the supposed map.

I glance at the scroll that seems a touch too crisp and notice the anxious tapping of a skeletal finger.  Without taking the map, I thumb over my shoulder and ask, "Do you see that man at my table dressed in black?"  At the peddler's curious nod, I continue to ask, "Do you see the sword he carries?"  The widening of beady eyes gives me the answer I need.  "If that map of yours doesn't lead us to the Oasis of Last Return, we will come back and make you regret your choice to deceive us.  And I promise you, we _will_ come back."

The peddler swallows thickly and promptly pulls back the scroll.  "Ah yes, the _Oasis_ of Last Return.  There are many places of interest in our great land, but the names are terribly similar."  While stumbling through his explanation, he tips back his enormous turban and slips free a scroll that has the creases and tears of a well used parchment.  "Here we are, but I'm afraid it's in the ancient tongue of our language.  For a small fee, I may provide translations--"

"That's unnecessary," I inform him while taking the scroll from his bony hand.

Walking back to our table, I frown at the addition a third belly dancer who appears quite fascinated by Seifer's golden hair, her hand of numerous rings and painted fingernails buried deeply into the soft spikes while she continues to dance.  Seifer's expressive green eyes follow her seductive movements and his lustful smirk shines in full form, but he surprising doesn't reach for the woman, unlike Cid who has an arm wrapped around a tall thing with long black hair and deep red eyes.

"So how 'bout it, boy?" Cid questions with a toothy leer.  "A youngster like you hasn't tasted heaven until you've had one of these desert beauties.  My treat for yer dumbass act to save those idiots during that building collapse."

While Yuffie and Aerith groan at the immoral offer, Seifer simply grins and shakes his head.  "Sorry, old man, but I'm not interested in one-night stands."  Green eyes shift toward me and focus on my approach.  "I want something real."

I curse under my breath when everyone, except Cloud, turns to determine the target of Seifer's stare.  Hyne damn it all, I knew I would regret leaving the impressionable teen alone with Cloud after that meeting earlier this week.  Even so, the others have no reason to assume Seifer meant me with his statement.  Judging their plain expressions, no one thought twice about Seifer's gaze, instead making the simpler assumption that my approach had attracted his eye and nothing more.

"I have a map," I state before tossing the scroll at Cid, the pilot easily snatching it out of the air.  "Can you tell if it's legit?"

Cid manages to open the scroll without losing his hold on the red-eyed dancer.  He hums in a variety of tones while examining the map, eventually telling the rest of us, "It's a reproduction, but an old one and good work.  It wouldn't surprise me if some smart guy copied the original 'fore the damn thing was lost or too faded to read.  The hand is steady, so I don't think anythin' was altered durin' the transfer.  Beyond that, I can't tell if this piece o' paper will lead us to that oasis of Merlin's or to a bullfrog singin' 'It's a Small World After All'."

While Yuffie snorts out a laugh, I nod with the understanding that it's a risk to trust any information gained with a price, especially when worldly treasures are involved.  "It's the best we have.  Aerith, can you attempt to translate the notes on the map?"

"No problem," the woman states with a smile, accepting the scroll from Cid.  "Merlin gave me an enchanted gem to help if we ran across any old languages."

"Be careful with it," I warn with a pointed stare.  "While we know better, any idiot who sees you and Yuffie with that map will assume you're fair game.  I know you can take care of yourselves, but don't let your guard down."

"Aye, aye, captain!" Yuffie says a bit too cheerfully, most likely excited at the opportunity to teach a group of burly men the lesson that some women shouldn't be messed with.  We had discovered yesterday that the local inn has ridiculously tight quarters, forcing us to separate into pairs for sleeping arrangements - Yuffie with Aerith, Cid with Cloud, and Seifer with me.  While it technically created a dangerous situation for the two women, Yuffie and Aerith had a laugh over the idea of being forced to pair off with a man in the room, particularly with Cid.  I can't blame them - the bastard has a mean snore.

"Then everyone should be prepared to leave early in the morning.  I want to get moving before the sun rises," I state while eyeing Cid in particular, the man only half-listening to the discussion as his red-eyed beauty toys with his goggles on top of his head.  "No excuses."

"Huh?" Cid questions when Yuffie shoves an elbow against his side.  Noticing my stare, he manages to appear chagrinned while scratching the stubble at his cheek.  "Oh right, early in the AM.  I'll be there with bells on."

Talk about your lost battles.  Deciding to change my focus to something controllable, I look to the spread of food that has already been handedly decimated by the others at the table.  "Anything I should avoid?"

"Nothing deadly," Aerith informs me.  "But there's a Sleep potion in the soup."

Yuffie snorts at the idea.  "Really, it's such child's play to use magic to steal from people.  What happened to having pride in a clean theft?  There's no skill in picking the pocket of someone who's dead to the world."

Normally I'd be worried that no one seems concerned by the fact that someone had tried to poison us, but such is Agrabah, a world that idolizes its history of outright thievery and deadly betrayal.  And as I scoop the last scraps of lamb from the closest plate, I mutter under my breath, "I never did like this fucking wasteland."

~ > < ~

Within the nonexistent comforts of the local inn and one of its dingy rooms, I remove my shirt as soon as the door closes and I step to the chipped basin partly filled with precious water.  Unfortunately, the luxury of baths are limited to royalty, which means I have to settle with a ratty rag dampened with water to wipe the sweat from my skin.  The lingering dust will have to wait until our return to Radiant Garden and far away from the desert winds that coat everything and everyone in golden sand.

The door opens and closes behind me, Seifer delayed in coming to the room for a reason I would rather not guess.  Perhaps Cid tried one last attempt to convince the teen to accept a whore in his bed, or perhaps Aerith and Yuffie wanted to give him encouraging words before our trip tomorrow.  Of course, that's mostly wishful thinking, especially when I have started to notice the shared glances between Cloud and Seifer.  Something happened a few days ago when I needed time to think about the unknown GF residing within Seifer, time that the impressionable teen had spent with Cloud despite my warnings otherwise.  I have a strong feeling that I'm not going to like the outcome of whatever they had talked about on that day.

After kicking off his boots, Seifer grunts out loudly when he drops onto one of two beds, the flimsy frame creaking dangerously at the move.  "God, I can't believe Cid.  Where did he get the idea that I'd actually _want_ something like those women as a reward for doing what's only right, anyway?  Is there something about me that makes it look like I'm desperate for sex?"

"You are a virgin," I comment with a slight smirk at his predicament.

"And what, that's a _disease_ around here or something?"

Rewetting my rag, I wipe the back of my neck.  "It's been a difficult era for everyone exposed to the Heartless.  We have learned to find comfort wherever we can."

Seifer mulls over that reality for a moment before insisting, "But to find somebody like one of those women and _pay_ for her to sleep with me... It sounds depressing."

"Perhaps, but the body is easier to satisfy than the heart."

"Phft, that's like saying it's easier to take last place instead of first," Seifer argues with unmoved arrogance.  "I just don't get it.  I mean, looking at those dancers, it's not like I wanted any of them.  They were pretty enough and had nice bodies, but what do I care about appearances when it's apparent that beautiful women exist on almost every world out there?  I want more than the obvious, y'know?"

"You're stronger than most," I comment quietly, my thoughts drifting to memories of the nights I spent with Cloud.  I'm not ashamed of something that helped to heal my heart and keep Cloud away from the darkness that threatens to overtake all of us.  But that certainty doesn't make it any easier to face Seifer.

"Maybe..." Seifer agrees distractedly, his thoughts apparently focused elsewhere.  "Say, Leon, can I ask a question?"

Folding the damp rag and hanging it off the edge of the basin to dry, I hum out my reluctant permission to the teen.

"What is it about the male body that excites you?"

Standing motionless, I stare at the filthy and cracked mirror ahead of me and focus on the reflection of Seifer lounging on his bed.  In a show of nonchalance, the teen sits with his back against the wall and his arm bent behind his head, but the slight downward cast of his eyes proves that it took more than he'd ever admit to ask the overly personal question.  It also suggests that he has spent a decent amount of time dwelling over the issue, something that Seifer probably didn't think up on his own.

My eyes narrowed on his reflection, I warn him, "Stop listening to Strife."

"It wasn't exactly my choice to listen to him," Seifer complains with a huff.  "But why does it bother you so much that I talk with him?  Is it just because what he has to say is inconvenient for you?"

A resounding 'yes' comes to mind and I have to fight to keep my expression as neutral as possible.  "It's because he has a bad habit of throwing people to the wolves when it suits his ideas of what is 'right'."

"And what, you're the big bad wolf in this scenario?"

I turn around and glance at the young man who has lived in my protection for several months now.  Dressed in the local attire, his sleeveless shirt of dark green complements his golden skin and developing muscles, his loose pants of thin material does nothing to inhibit his arrogant stride, and his black sash fits snugly at his waist while conveniently hiding the small bejeweled blade he couldn't help purchasing from a street merchant.  He's no longer the wide-eyed kid I picked up from Twilight Town and that knowledge does little to help me in this situation.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I warn him, "I'm more dangerous than you realize."

Seifer lifts a hand to his right ear and caresses the flesh scarred by magical fire.  "I've never thought of you as anything other than dangerous."

Unable to pull my eyes away, I watch his thumb move over the ear that is forever marred because of my weakened defenses and Seifer's regrettable ability to release the emotions from my damaged heart.  I should be ashamed, maybe guilty at his pain, but I can only feel warped satisfaction every time Seifer strokes that scar and not the line between his eyes, a brand that has nothing to do with me.

"Are you with men because women are too boring for you?"

With an eyebrow lifted in disbelief, I ask in reply, "Who said that I've only been with men?"

"But you're with Strife... And while the prick wouldn't say one way or another, I know you were with the other me.  That's _his_ ring, isn't it?"

Though initially surprised by his insight, I inwardly laugh at my constant failure to keep in mind that this Seifer shares his previous self's ability to make inconvenient connections.  "Strife and I were never in a relationship," I state, hating my need to clarify that point.  "But yes, this ring was from the Seifer Almasy from my lost world.  And before him, I was with a woman for a short time."

"Whoa, really?" Seifer asks as he shifts to sit at the edge of his bed, his socked feet flat against the rugged floor.  "What was she like?  Was she a beauty?"

"You seemed to think so."  When Seifer's nose wrinkles in confusion, I explain, "The body Ultimecia possessed once belonged to a girl named Rinoa Heartilly."

Green eyes slowly widen as the teen processes the information I've given him, hopefully coming to the conclusion that becoming involved with me would be a poor decision on his part.  One lover lost her soul and the other lost his life, not once, but twice... I imagine Cloud is only safe because it was never a matter of love between us.  Hell, I can almost imagine my love being listed in Agrabah's books as one of its many fabled curses.

"I didn't realize," Seifer murmurs to himself, his eyes shifting in thought before he abruptly looks at me.  "Did you promise yourself to her?"

"Promise myself?  What do you mean?"

"Well, if I understand right, you've only been with men since her..."

It takes a moment to understand the direction of his thoughts, and once I realize that he thinks I'm somehow _pining_ for Rinoa by only having sex with men instead of women, a breath of laughter escapes me and I fail to restrain further laughter when Seifer sports a faint blush at my reaction.  Oh Hyne, it would be a costly mistake to explain that Rinoa had been poor substitute for Seifer, my attraction to her based solely on her warmth and comfort after the events of D-District Prison.  Unfortunately, I have to say something to the clueless teen, or else I'd face even more unusual assumptions from the creative blond.

"Rinoa helped me through a tough time, nothing more than that," I inform him with a lingering smile from my previous laughter.

Though his soft blush doesn't fade, Seifer maintains eye contact while standing from the bed.  His steps are soundless when he moves toward me.  "And who's helping you through _this_ 'tough time'?"

I don't give him the response he wants, but my eyes follow his every movement as he comes closer and I shift my footing into a more comfortable stance, refusing to budge in front of the slightly taller man.

"It's Strife, isn't it?" Seifer guesses, but instead of being angered by the thought, the teen smiles with smug confidence.  "Or should that be 'it _was_ Strife'?"

I try not to react, but something in my expression gives Seifer the confirmation he needs.

"You used the past tense earlier when talking about you and Strife," he explains before stopping maybe a foot in front of me.  Though not touching, I can still feel his body heat against my bare skin, something I try to disregard as psychological nonsense since I shouldn't be able to tell the difference compared to the suffocating desert air around us.  "And before you think to deny anything, the prick also mentioned something about losing you.  Altogether, that leaves a simple question - why did you stop using him?"

I breathe a laugh at Seifer's idea of a 'simple question', wishing that I had his gift of sarcasm such that I could ask him to replace Cloud for me and have it be taken as nothing more than a joke, or better yet, taken as an insult that would drive him away.  But if I dared to make the suggestion and Seifer replied 'yes'...

Though distracted by conflicting thoughts, I notice the movement of Seifer's arm in time to shove a hand against his chest, forcing him a step backward and startling him from whatever stupid action he was about to make.  "You don't want this."

Green eyes narrow with irritation.  "How do you know what I want?"

"You're a rebellious punk of a kid who has been shown something new and immoral by the rules of your world and now you want to experience it for yourself."  My glare cold and unforgiving, I tell him, "Frankly, I'm not in the mood to humor a boy who just hit puberty."

Admirably, Seifer doesn't back off at my tone.  Instead, he regains his lost step and straightens to use his meager height over me.  "Is that what you think this is?  That I just want to use you for some sexual end goal?"

My fingers at his chest twitch at his angered and upset voice.  Hyne damn it, why is it impossible to divert this idiot blond from his single-minded aspirations?  "You don't want this," I repeat, as if saying it enough times will make it true.

"Then what _do_ I want, Leon?" Seifer demands.  He then moves faster than I've seen from the teenager thus far, his hand burying deep into my hair and making it an inconvenient choice to pull away from his larger body.  "You're in my thoughts all of the time and I'm not used to shit like that.  I've only been on dates because girls would come to _me_ , and though I made certain they had a good time for the sake of my reputation, I never gave them a second thought.  Hell, I hardly gave them a _first_ thought.  But then you appeared out of nowhere and it's hard to have a thought that _doesn't_ involve you."

I relax my arm that had failed to keep a safe distance between us and I hook my fingers at the low neckline of his shirt.  "You're confusing gratitude for something deeper.  I saved you from deadly monsters you never knew existed, and then I gave you the sword you always wanted--"

"If that's the case," Seifer interjects, "then shouldn't I have similar feelings for Strife?  He has done a shitload to help me out and he actually answers my questions unlike most people I know.  But thinking about him in your bed and touching you... it _gnaws_ at me like nothing else."  With a bitter laugh, he adds, "You know, I actually make myself think of that night whenever I spar with the bastard.  It gives me bit of an edge against that ridiculous sword of his."

"Do you even understand what you're asking from me?"

His eyes firm and serious, Seifer admits, "Not really.  This is new ground for me, but it doesn't make it any less real."

I can't win.  It's a painful realization that I've been forced to relive time and time again with Seifer, and yet I continue to struggle against him as if it'd make a difference.  It reminds me of all those years ago when Seifer managed to make me see _him_ instead of the possessed man who had raped me and marked my body.  I shouldn't have been able to fall in love with him again, but his determination was greater than my fear and my heart was weak to his overbearing presence.

And such is my problem.

If I had bothered to stop and think about my actions against Seifer, I would have realized that I didn't care that he was child or someone who wasn't the skilled mercenary I had known.  No, those were just my excuses for a greater reason - I can't betray Seifer with my love.

"I can't give you what you want."  Before Seifer can voice an argument, I lift my left hand and rest it lightly on his raised arm, purposefully placing my golden ring in plain view.  "He, my husband, meant everything to me.  If I were to touch you, to hold you as you foolishly desire, I would feel _him_ and desire _him_ even though you're the one with me.  I can't do that to you.  I _won't_ do that to you."

Seifer focuses on the worn ring, his normally intense gaze softened by a cerulean hue.  "But what if I am him?"

A sigh of regret leaves me at the suggestion.  Despite the few details he knows about his past life, Seifer has never tried to be anything more than what he already is - a teenaged boy who faced a sorceress and won, a novice who learned to carry a gunblade in mere months, and a young man who constantly faces the fears no one else from his world can begin to comprehend.  He's proud of the person he is and that's how it should be.

Before I can voice my thoughts, Seifer catches onto my disappointment and promptly amends, "I'm not saying that I _want_ to be that guy, but... You see, Strife mentioned it to me once and I couldn't get it out of my head until I realized that maybe he's right.  Maybe I am that guy, just different because our lives aren't the same.  I mean, what's a life really except a bunch of memories?  Just because I don't have that guy's memories doesn't mean I'm not him."  With a jerk of his chin towards my ring, Seifer asks, "Would you have given up on _him_ if he had gotten kicked in the head and forgot everything he knew?"

I stare at him for the example, suspicious at Strife's true influence over the teen's thought process despite Seifer's words that suggest he had reached the conclusion on his own.  "You aren't him."

Seifer shrugs, unbothered by my declaration.  "Maybe, maybe not.  But doesn't it make more sense if I were him in some fashion?  The moment I saw your gunblade, I knew it was the weapon I've always itched to get my hands on.  It didn't matter that I had never seen such a blade before; I wanted one for myself.  There's also the issue about that guardian force sleeping inside of me.  Correct me if I'm wrong, but would a beast like that choose just _anyone_ to possess?"  When I don't have an argument to offer, Seifer grins with sharp arrogance.  "And then there's you.  From the very beginning, I trusted you, a deadly guy who had appeared out of nowhere and knew my name.  It may sound weird, but the fact I wanted to blindly trust you scared me more than those monsters you had killed.  Since then, I've tried to figure out where that trust came from and the only thing I can figure is that my soul remembers something that my brain isn't allowed to touch.  I think it remembers you."

My hand tightens around his forearm, almost to the point of leaving bruises.  "So what am I supposed to do?  Accept you because your soul is the same?  Somehow forget the fact that you aren't my husband?"

"But I am, Squall."

My eyes widen at his use of the name I had left behind, a name this Seifer once claimed suited me better than 'Leon'.  Staring into entrancing eyes, I find it too hard, too painful to force myself to separate this teen from the man I have already lost twice in my wretched life.  It doesn't matter that his scar is at the wrong angle, that his eyes are too young, that his golden hair is too long.  I've known Seifer all of my life and I've seen him as a young boy, as a sorceress' pet, and as a lover.  This teenager before me is just one of his many forms.

My eyes burn with moisture at the acceptance that Seifer is more than I wanted him to be, but my vision of him doesn't blur or shift when I say, "You left me behind."

It was nothing I meant to say, nothing I would ever admit to another soul, but I'm not given the chance to regret the spoken words or to question why they had to be said.  Like many times before, my sense seems to disappear the moment warm lips press against mine.  It's not that he's particularly skilled at the chaste kiss, but for the first time in years, I feel like I have a reason to breathe if only to take in the scent of the only man who constantly dares to touch my frostbitten heart.

"I'm sorry," Seifer eventually whispers against my lips.

I scoff halfheartedly.  "You don't even know why you're apologizing."

"It's not my fault I don't know the details," he states accusingly, "but even a kid like me can see that you've been left alone.  And I have a feeling that you're weaker for it."

Afraid to accept him, terrified to reject him, I make myself look into his hopeful gaze.  "Why now?"

"Isn't it obvious?"  My glare of 'I wouldn't ask if I knew' makes Seifer swallow thickly and reply, "Well, because... there may not be a later."

Concerned by his abruptly hoarse tone, I demand, "Why wouldn't there be a later?"

Seifer scowls at the question and succumbs to his typical sarcasm, "Oh, I don't know, maybe because there's that _little_ issue of a sorceress who possessed your _ex-girlfriend_ and wants to kill us both in terrible ways.  But then again, it _could_  have something to do with us searching for an evil warlock's lair, prepared to face booby traps to find a relic that _might_ handle that bitch sorceress.  Or maybe, just _maybe,_ it's because I've already survived one battle against Ultimecia where, _right in front of me_ , you dropped to the ground and I thought... I _swore_..."

When his voice breaks apart to uselessness, I feel partly ashamed at my assumption that Seifer had prepared himself for his own death at the hands of the petty sorceress.  To hear that he's afraid to lose me, an idea that didn't really cross my mind, I almost feel sick.

Seifer barks out a bitter laugh.  "Back then, I was too weak to defend myself, to even _move_.  That was all I could think about when I watched you collapse, something that was previously _unfeasible_ to me.  Do you have any clue how that tore me apart?  How my nightmares of that whore have been replaced with visions of your dead body spread out on the desert ground?"

"... I didn't die."

"Right, that time you didn't, but what happens during the next attack?  She should have her Knight by then and who knows what type of monster she'll find to be her minion.  Shit, forget the Knight - the moment she gets complete control of her powers, we're all fucked.  And with that ahead of us, do you really think I'm stupid enough to let this time pass without at least _trying_ to be with you?"  His fingers caress my scalp with a light touch and he adds, "Hell, if I'm lucky, there might even be enough time to have something real between us."

"Seifer..." I whisper, uncertain what I should tell him.

After a surprised blink, the teen smiles like a fool.  "You've never called me by my first name before."

My lips tighten into a thin line as I'm forced to consider my mistake... if it was a mistake at all.  Gazing into his eager green eyes, I can't think of him as 'Almasy' anymore, my final defense against this kid gone without much effort on his part.  "Seifer," I repeat more forcefully, as if speaking his name wasn't a slip of the tongue, but my attempt to emphasize a point.  "You don't understand the line you are treading.  If you continue this and force me to see you as... something more, I can't look the other way again.  And frankly, I don't think you're ready for a relationship with a man like me."

Seifer laughs lightly at my warning.  "Is that supposed to dissuade me?  Come on, what _have_ I been ready for in this screwed up universe?"

I scowl at the comment that has its measure of truth, but I don't like it nonetheless.

Shifting closer to me, Seifer smirks in defiance to my displeasure.  "In any case, you're wrong.  The only reason I want this is _because_ you're 'a man like you'.  I wouldn't be interested otherwise."

I don't resist when Seifer leans in for another kiss, his final argument against my noble intentions to keep him safe from my toxic love and cursed life.  Despite all of the reasons why this shouldn't work, I surrender to his single-minded desire to conquer me no matter the situation, no matter our past.  Too quickly I fall into old habits and I lap my tongue at his lower lip, a silent request for something deeper that would make me stop thinking and simply accept this young man for everything he is and everything he isn't.  And Hyne, I haven't been kissed in so long.  Seifer, however, jerks back at the wet touch, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed as he stares at me.  He then stutters out something of an apology, but his voice is too muffled and too embarrassed for him to make much sense.

It's then I realize the troubles of associating with virgins.

"Don't tell me that you haven't kissed before."

Seifer straightens with offense at the comment, but his deepening blush takes away from his attempt of regaining a dose of poise in front of me.  "I've kissed girls plenty of times before.  Just not like... _that_."

Fighting against a smile at his naivety, I question, "Didn't you mention something about giving those girls a good time?"

"Yeah, like treating them to a movie, putting my arm around them, a simple kiss goodnight.  But _you_... we don't that sort of thing in Twilight Town, y'know."

A soft breath of laughter leaves me, the sound causing Seifer's blush to spread to his ears.  It should be a disappointing sight, something to dissuade me, but looking at his face, I know that nothing has changed.  He's still the idiot I couldn't help loving over and over again, and if I'm going to succumb to his stupidity once again, I might as well enjoy myself.  I lift my hand to his face and lightly brush my fingertips along his heated cheek, eventually positioning my thumb at his chin.

"Would you like me to show you?"

Green eyes widen at the offer.  "You aren't...?  I mean, you and not-me probably did this sort of thing all of the time, and I..."

"Hn, but aren't you supposed to be him?"

Before Seifer has the chance to fully process the meaning behind my words, I stretch to place my lips against his in a gentle kiss that won't frighten him.  It doesn't take long before Seifer relaxes enough to lightly stroke my hair with the same caress as before and place his other arm around my bare waist.  With gradual pressure of my thumb against his chin, I carefully open his mouth and tease the inner edge of his lip with my tongue.  Though relenting to my lead, Seifer shows some hesitance to open his mouth further than what he thinks is proper, as if I were the one to lure him into this situation.  Amused by the idea, I don't warn him when I slip my tongue past his parted teeth.  Seifer immediately retreats, but only to the distance of a few inches where he stops and thinks about the sensations forced upon him.  He eventually grunts out a surprised 'huh' before leaning back into the kiss.

He tastes of saffron.  It's the only thought I'm allowed while I control the kiss such that Seifer's inexperienced experiments ultimately result in something productive for the both of us.  As such, I don't recognize the movement of his hand until it slips along the edge of my pants and the rough skin of his fingers rub against my lower back.  I arch forward with a soft groan into our kiss, the action once again startling Seifer, but not to the point of retreating from me.  Instead, his focus drifts away from the mechanics of the kiss and he tries his damnedest to recreate the touch that had caused my reaction.

"Not happening," I grumble into his mouth.  "We have an early morning tomorrow."

Seifer leans back to blink at me with confusion, but it doesn't take long for him to understand what exactly isn't happening tonight.  "Oh..." he breathes, and then a slow smile comes to his lips.  " _Oh_."

Damn virgins.  "You have poor timing," I inform him and try to pull away, but he replaces his arm at my waist and wraps the other around my bare shoulders.  "Seifer, we should get to bed."

"Can we share one?"

I look at him with a raised eyebrow, wondering how that trick would work.

Seifer glances back over his shoulder and frowns at the reminder of the narrow and flimsy mattresses that will serve as our beds tonight.  "Well, maybe we can pull them together?"

"They'd probably fall apart if we moved them," I comment.  At the teen's downhearted look, I sigh and question, "I know you're not stupid enough to force the issue of sex, so what is this really about?"

"...Tomorrow morning, you're going to pretend this didn't happen, aren't you?"

I don't dignify the question with an answer, my irritated glare being enough.

Avoiding my gaze, Seifer explains, "I've played a game like this before.  You're an adult humoring a kid, and the moment I let go, you aren't going to live up to your promises."

Taking a moment to study his expression, I recognize the pained look Seifer would show after every failed SeeDs exam.  Always trying his hardest, always putting his neck on the line, and his reward for that bravery was undeserved failure.  It's a shame that this Seifer was somehow taught the same lesson in his young life.  At that moment, I realize that there is little I know about this kid who has a family and a past he can remember.  And suddenly I _want_ to know what has made this Seifer so much like the man I knew, but noticeably different in thoughts and actions.  Thus far, I have avoided such talk to prevent getting too close to the person I can lose at any minute... again... but it's too late now.  Maybe it was too late to begin with.

My voice low and certain, I say, "I've already warned you that I'm not interested in games."

Though still not meeting my gaze, Seifer comments, "Yeah, but an hour ago, you weren't interested in me, either."

"That... wasn't a matter of being uninterested in you," I admit reluctantly, earning a sidelong glance from the teen.  "This won't be easy.  Our differing pasts aside, I'm a decade older than you and you still aren't accustomed to the universe outside of Twilight Town.  While the people of Radiant Garden are fairly open-minded, not every world is like that.  I imagine most people will think I've taken advantage of you."

"I'm fine with that," Seifer insists, finally facing me directly.  "I don't give a shit what other people say as long as you don't push me aside."

Hn, it's funny how things can move full circle like this, his declaration reminding me of my one time wish to stand next to Seifer, even if he never acknowledged my love.  But that's the past and it has become rather apparent that I should take my chances and live in the present for once.  That thought foremost in my mind, I tell him, "I want you to call me 'Leon'."

Seifer stares at me with a betrayed look, and then starts into an argument I don't bother listening to.

Speaking over him, I maintain, "If you call me 'Leon', it'll be harder for me to confuse you with the man I knew.  And if we're going to do this, I want to try to do this with _you_ , not with old memories."

His expression relaxes into one of hopeful disbelief.  "Then, are we...?"

I huff at his desire to name this thing between us.  "We're together and figuring things out.  Leave it at that for now."

Though he should reasonably be disappointed by the reply, Seifer instead smiles and nods.  "We're together," he repeats softly.  His hand moves to grasp mine in a tight hold and causes my ring to be squeezed bitingly between our fingers.  "And one day, I'll make you see me."

* * *

[Seifer]

The heat of the desert sun is like nothing I've experienced before, giving me a true appreciation of the simple things in life such as ice cubes and shade.  Like a regular nomad tribe, we've been stomping through the desert since early this morning, before the sun had bothered appearing on the horizon.  Leon had taken the lead with me trailing behind him as I couldn't quite keep up with his steady pace in the sand.  Strife kept back with Aerith, the only person with the right touch to convince the camel carrying our supplies to move.  Unsurprisingly, Cid could barely be persuaded to budge this morning, and so he was tossed onto the camel along with our supplies.  Though regaining consciousness since then, his complaints of being an old man with a sore back earned him a permanent perch on the camel.  Yuffie had been given the job of scout, her appearance and disappearance happening throughout the day depending on her whims.

All in all, it has been a very long, very hot day.

I thought the others were insane to insist that robes and headwear were necessary for traveling into the desert, the idea of wearing _more_ clothing seemingly an oxymoron, but I now understand how the sun would've burnt my bare skin to a bacon-like crisp.  Making the head piece work this morning was quite the adventure, Leon forced to fix the disaster that I had created with the simple scarf.  It was hard to stand in place while he stood in front of me and wrapped the cloth in a purposeful manner such that my head and neck were covered without limiting my peripheral vision.  Every time his fingers brushed against my skin, a weird feeling turned my stomach and made me more sensitive to the next touch.  More than that, I _wanted_ him to touch me, a need that still frightens me a little.  I've never wanted something as much as I do Leon and I can't quite figure out what to do about it.

"Thinking about something interesting?"

I jump at the unexpected voice, and then glare at Strife for constantly catching me off guard.  "How do you _do_ that?"

The blond soldier simply grins in response, making me look like an idiot for the valid question.  Dressed like the rest of us in a flowing white robe that covers his darker clothes, Strife should reasonably be struggling on the desert sands while bearing the weight of his buster blade.  Instead, he moves effortlessly with the air of someone on a stroll... in the middle of a desert... looking for the lair of a crazed warlock who really liked killing people.  Fuck, for all I know, Strife _does_ consider this to be nothing more than an afternoon stroll, the experienced mercenary not bothered by the ideas of booby traps and potentially undead warlocks.

"So, you finally took my advice."

My lips twitch into a near sneer and I forcefully look away from the smug bastard, only to have my eyes settle on Leon's back a dozen or so yards ahead of us.  It's his fault that I got shit for sleep last night, my eyes unwilling to close while I laid on that mockery of a bed and watched Leon rest motionlessly.  Though he had said otherwise, I was prepared for the worse this morning, that Leon would simply pretend nothing had happened.  Instead, I was surprised to wake up with a cold touch against my forehead, Leon toying with my hair while waiting for me to wake.  His eyes were remote, his posture was visibly stiff, but he was _there_ and sitting at my side.

Even so, one question remains and, unfortunately, only one man can give me the answer.  "Why were you so certain that he'd accept me?"

"He said so himself," he replies, and then adds for clarification, "You were there when Leon mentioned that he wanted to forgive."

Realizing that Strife was talking about Leon's odd comment a few days ago, I ask with unresolved confusion, "What exactly does he want to forgive?"

"You," Strife replies dully, as if bored with the obvious.

Stunned, I look at the mercenary, but I don't need to ask any questions when I think I know the answers.  I can still hear Leon's voice telling me that I had left him behind, and though I know he wasn't really speaking to me, it pained me all the same.  It had been an instinctual act to kiss him, as well as whispering the subsequent apology that wasn't really my right to give, but it had to be said nonetheless.  And if I wanted to trust Strife and his assumptions, then Leon probably needed to hear that apology whether he knew it or not.

"So," Strife prods after allowing me a moment of thought, "how did the bed hold up?"

I snort at the ridiculous question.  "Seriously, what's wrong with you and Leon?  Does everything have to be about sex?"

Sapphire eyes narrow with interest.  "You're still calling him 'Leon'."

Shit, why do I keep _telling_ these things to him?  "Yeah, because he wants me to.  He wants _me_ to continue doing the things _I_ do, got it?"

His mysterious smile in place, Strife places a heavy hand at my shoulder and squeezes hard.  "Tread carefully, kid.  While you might be head over heels in love, Leon doesn't fall like that."

"I never said I was in love, either," I state sharply, not liking how both Strife and Leon seem to think that love is a child's game.  "I know the real thing isn't this easy, but I finally have Leon's attention.  He's looking at me and not through me, and while it may sound pathetic to you, it's the first step to something incredible, something..."  At a loss for the right word, I explain, "I've always had my dreams, but I never thought I'd be this close to making one real."

"Nice story, but you have a rough road ahead of you," Strife comments, his voice surprisingly sympathetic.  "Even if Leon wants the same things, he's not going to admit it.  Well, at least willingly."

I stare at the mercenary for his offhanded remark, something about his tone striking me as a warning... or perhaps a threat.

Before I have a chance to figure out what Strife could be implying, I'm abruptly distracted by the sight of Yuffie jumping and waving like a loon in the distance, her location slightly west of our current course.

Leon seems to notice her at the same moment I do, and after muttering something under his breath that I can't understand with him so far ahead, he motions for rest of us to shift directions and meet up with the excitable woman.  It takes a few minutes to reach her waiting spot, Yuffie bouncing lightly the entire time despite the heat that has zapped everyone else's energy.  Once we're close enough, she points at the ground with a mild flourish and directs our attention to a small, weather-beaten statue of a fish... that appears to be missing half of its tail.

"That's...it?" I ask in disbelief, seeing nothing important about the statue, but apparently I'm the only one who thinks so.

"Appearances are always deceiving in Agrabah," Leon states while kneeling to the ground.  With a gloved hand, he lightly raps a knuckle against the abused stone, the seemingly fragile statue not budging at the rough touch.  Leon then brushes a finger along the underside of the fish and reveals twisted lettering that oddly looks like it was freshly carved into the stone.  "Good eye, Yuffie.  We would've walked right past it."

Yuffie grins at the praise and flexes her arm in a victory pose.  "You can always count on me, boss."

Standing up from the ground, Leon says, "Get a last drink, everyone."

"Don't call it a 'last' drink, dumb shit," Cid complains from his perch on top of the camel.  "It's bad luck."

Leon raises an eyebrow at the superstitious comment, and without correcting his statement, he retrieves his canteen from beneath his robes and takes a deep drink of the undoubtedly lukewarm water.  We all follow his lead, the gravity of his statement understood by everyone without need of additional words.  Though tasting of dirt and faintly of metal, I savor the last of my water while leaving a few mouthfuls in the canteen.  It's almost painful to save that last bit with the knowledge that we'll somehow have to get back to the city without the lifesaving liquid, but there's nothing to be done about it.

Leon is the first to pour his remaining water on the statue, the rest of us following his lead once again.  Cid is the last to dump his water, the old man sliding off the back of the camel with more grace than his previous complaints of a bad back should have allowed.  And thusly, we stand in a circle around the broken statue of a fish, staring as the desert ground greedily absorbs the last drops of our water.  We probably look like idiots right now, especially when we probably just committed ourselves to dying in this desert.

The soft gurgle from the fish is a mild surprise, more so the spits of water that come from its gapping mouth.  It's then I notice a faint blue glow to the lettering on the statue, the light hard to see given the glare of sunlight off the sand.  The splattering of water gradually becomes a trickling stream that creates a muddy mess at the base of the statue.

A gloved hand abruptly grabs onto my forearm and forces me to step backward at a slow pace.  "Don't let the water touch you and bind you to this place," Leon cautions in a low tone.

I should probably be offended at his warning since I'm hardly an idiot and everyone was informed by Aerith about the dangerous properties of the water here, but I don't say anything in fear of driving away the touch of his fingers wrapped securely around my arm.  Though a glove covers his hand and my robe protects my arm, I can still feel the hardness of his ring against my skin.  It's hard to say how I feel about that hunk of gold.  A large part of me wants to be childishly jealous over the thing, but a quiet voice likes to remind me that Leon is wearing that ring because of his deep love for the person who owned this soul before me.  And if I play this right, that same love just may become mine.  And when I think of it that way, it's hard to hate that ring and what it represents.

As everyone steps back, more and more water accumulates around the statue of the broken fish.  Grass and reeds abruptly appear at the touch of water and a couple palm trees shoot up into the air, an effect that is almost comical instead of awe-inspiring.  But even thinking so, I know very well that there's a darker purpose behind the excessive use of magic: the oasis was once a lure that ensnared ill-fated people who thought they had discovered salvation, only to find themselves in a new sort of Hell.  Since the warlock's death, the oasis had dropped into a dormant state and, as every legend goes, those who dared to stir it back to life were never heard from again.

In time, the water level stabilizes and reveals certain features that had been hidden beneath the sand: several large platforms of rock serve as a path to the center of the pool where the water pours down into a square opening, the supposed entrance to the warlock's lair.  And we're not supposed to touch the water.  Right.

The hand still at my arm squeezes tightly, encouraging me to look away from the oasis and stare into cold pools of blue-gray.  Leon doesn't say anything in that moment, but his stern gaze reminds me that I can't afford to be afraid this early in the game.  Sure, it won't be easy obtaining the relic we need, but any risk is worth the chance of removing Ultimecia as a threat toward our shared future.  Leon smiles slightly, perhaps able to see my strengthened resolve, and then removes his hand from my arm.

"Get ready," he instructs, promptly removing his covering of robes that could easily dip into the enchanted water.

In short time, a collection of robes hang over the camel's back, the creature irritated by the magic oasis, but not threatened enough to run off with all of our supplies.  Aerith whispers something to the beast while tying its reins to a newly formed tree at the edge of the oasis, hopefully calming it enough that we'll have medical supplies and food once we return.  No water, unfortunately, as the oasis can only be revived with a traveler's final drops of water, but Leon seems unconcerned by the matter compared to retrieving the relic.

Once everyone is prepared, Yuffie is the first to hop across the dried stones, the woman looking much like a girl playing hopscotch.  Leon shakes his head at her antics, but follows behind without visible concern for her safety.  I trail closely behind Leon, surprised to watch Yuffie hardly pause at the entrance of the warlock's lair before she hurries down the apparent steps.  Leon, however, waits at the top platform where I move to his side and get a proper view of the entrance.  Though it appeared from the shore that water was pouring down into the stairwell, the structure actually has glass in place such that the water slides between the stone walls and glass covering, leaving the steps untouched from the cascading water.  Still, the initial flood of water had touched the stones, and judging by the smell of smoke, Yuffie was busy using fire spells to dry the remaining puddles.

"All clear, boss!" Yuffie calls out from within the shadows.

Leon glances back at the rest of us, and after a vague nod, he leads us down into the warlock's lair.

Step by step, we move from burning sunlight into damp shadows, and though it's a relief at first, the chill eventually adds to my base fears and goosebumps break out across my bare arms.  It's stupid, but I can't help feeling like a treasure hunter breaking into the tomb of a murdered pharaoh, his mummy just waiting around the corner to attack.  While there shouldn't be any mummies, I've been informed that far worse could be waiting for us within the lair.  Why did I ever think it was a good idea to search for comforting words from a mercenary?

Yuffie waits for us at the base of stairs, the dark-haired woman leaning against a stone wall where the steps seem to reach a dead-end.  Knowing differently, Yuffie simply smiles and says, "Would you do the honors, Aerith?"

"Of course."  Aerith slips past me and Leon to approach the wall, and with the map held between her and Yuffie, Aerith uses her finger against the stone to copy something from the old scroll.  The trail of words shines like glitter against the stone, and with the final stroke of her finger, the stone groans and gradually sinks into the ground to give us entrance into the warlock's lair.

Yuffie is the first to move over the threshold, the woman a supposed expert when it comes to locating and disarming booby traps.  Even so, she only seems to take a cursory glance of the area before waving us forward with the warning to not touch anything, her gaze pointedly focused on Cid.

I don't know what I had imagined when I first heard that we would be walking into the den of a warlock.  Skulls were probably on top of my list, maybe an old wooden bench with melted candles and a cauldron, and it was assumed there would be a shelf of exotic items ranging from eye of newt to fairy dust.  Apparently, I know nothing about warlocks.  The entrance to the 'lair' leads to the top floor of an immense room that looks like something crossed between a library and cathedral.  Five circular levels dig down into the earth, each floor except the lowest displaying a vast collection of old books and ancient scrolls, and between those numerous shelves are statues upon statues of angels and demons.  The hairs at the back of my neck rise up at the sight of the life-sized statues bathed in poor lighting from scattered crystals.

"Mercy from above," Aerith whispers in horror.  Everyone turns to see her standing next to a female angel that was position at the edge of the floor with her legs hanging in midair and her head cradled within her arms.  Aerith places a shaky hand on top of the angel's head and says, "She was alive when he did this to her.  They were all alive."

Stunned, I look around at the collection of statues and realize that all of them, whether angel or demon, had pained expressions.  Many were doubled over in their agony, some looked like they were trying to fight back, but none had the expected serenity of angels or the mischievousness of demons.  To think they were once humans, once _alive_ and they were given such callous deaths... it just doesn't make sense.

"Why?" I ask to no one in particular.  "Why did something like this happen?"

"Greed, obsession, madness - take your pick," Leon replies as he steps along the metal railing, searching for a way down.  "He was a man who wanted to capture the immortal soul and discover its secrets.  These people were victims of experiments that ultimately led to the relic we need."

"And what, we just use it and forget about what was done to create it?"

"We use it and pray that it works against Ultimecia.  If not, she will bring about more horrors than the few tortured men and women here," Leon says as if their lives didn't matter, as if they were just causalities of war.

With my hands fisted at my sides, I watch helplessly as the dark-haired man steps further away with that damn unreadable expression of his.  My attention is so focused on him that I jump when a hand settles on my shoulder.

"Don't let him fool you," Yuffie states with an impish smile.  "Leon isn't as uncaring as he'd like the rest of us to believe.  In fact, there was this one time when the Dalmatian puppies went missing--"

"Yuffie, I need you over here."

The young woman pouts at her story being cut short, but replies with a, "Yes, sir!", before running off to check the ladder Leon had apparently found at the other side of the circular floor.

Watching her run off, I think about what she said and I realize that Leon's attitude wasn't the source of my anger, but rather that I know he cares more than he'd ever show and it pisses me off that he hides it like this.  "Who's benefit is he doing this for - ours or his own?"  The feel of eyes focused on my back makes me turn and I easily locate the bright sapphire gaze studying me.  I had whispered the question under my breath, but I've learned that Strife has better hearing than most humans and his interested expression proves he had heard every word.  I huff in irritation that I can't even talk to myself in peace, and then ask, "Well?  Got something to say, Strife?"

The blond soldier simply smirks and shakes his head.

Before I can coax an answer from the man, we're called over to the discovered ladder that Yuffie had declared clear of traps.  It's a direct shot from that top level to the bottom floor... well, nearly to the bottom floor as the last ten feet are mangled to uselessness.  I jump the remaining distance like Yuffie and Leon ahead of me, but unlike them, my landing doesn't stick and I stumble several steps backward before Leon grabs a flailing arm and steadies me.  I'm just about to thank him when my gaze focuses on the area around us and my breath catches at the sight previously hidden from the higher levels.  Scattered everywhere are bones that are clearly human, but most are shattered into bits and pieces like someone took a sledgehammer to a few dozen skeletons.

"Step carefully," Leon warns as he releases my arm, his fingers briefly tangling with mine.  "I won't lose you here."

Feeling like I've been bewitched, my gaze follows Leon as he crosses the room and stands next to Yuffie in front of a stone wall decorated with lettering I'll never recognize in this lifetime.  Instead of his typical leather and belts, Leon wears looser clothing that makes him appear smaller and younger than he really is.  It's strange to see him like that, a part of me wanting to protect him while the wiser part of me knows that he would snap my neck if I even mentioned it.  Still, my hand drifts to Helios' hilt and I silently pledge that I won't always be this worthless to him.

A loud thump and a biting curse signals Cid's uncoordinated arrival to the bottom level, and by the time I turn around, Strife drops down next to the old man with more grace than should be allowed, a thought that Cid clearly shares given his nasty glare from his unplanned seated position.  Strife offers a hand to the fallen man, something Cid almost refuses out of spite, but instead takes the hand that easily lifts him to his feet.  While Strife waits for Aerith in order to catch her fall, Cid walks stiffly toward Yuffie and Leon.

"I'm too old for these games, kids," the old man says while whipping the dust from his ass.  "Let's wrap this up and head home, eh?"

"We need a key first," Leon replies, and then nods toward his right.  "And I think he's the only one who knows where it is."

Confused, I look in the direction pointed out and have to squint to see within the alcove obscured by shadows.  I soon recognize the wooden bench I had expected to find within the warlock's lair, but I receive a mild shock when I barely make out a person seated in a chair facing out at us.  Leon steps causally toward that area and lifts a hand, a tiny blaze of fire appearing at his palm just before shooting toward the bench and its collection of candles.  The added light shows the person for what he is - an ancient skeleton dressed in nothing more than rags and tarnished jewelry.

"Well, lookie there," Cid says while walking past Leon and toward the seated skeleton.  "You need a key and this bugger has one."

Several points come to mind within the matter of seconds: a) there are a shitload of broken skeletons everywhere, b) there is _one_ intact skeleton that happens to have the key we need, and c) that key is still on a chain around the skeleton's neck despite the bodies of treasurer hunters littering the place.  Unfortunately, Cid is faster than the rest of us can speak or act, and though Leon manages to grab a shoulder, Cid's outreached hand pierces through a barrier around the skeleton that causes the air to shimmer.  Soon after, heavy metal clangs in the distance.

"That... can't be good," Cid admits, and then winces at the glare Leon directs at him.  "Yeah, yeah, I know that girly-girl was supposed to check everythin' first, but how many times were we gonna wait for her to give us an all clear?"

Leon continues to glare at Cid when commanding, "Almasy, stay back.  Aerith and Yuffie, keep him in place."

"Wha--" is the extent of my argument when Yuffie grabs my arm and pulls me toward the alcove, the only source of decent cover in the place.  Aerith is fast behind her, leaving me with my back against the wall and with two women shielding me from whatever is coming.

Before I can work past my anger to voice anything, Aerith places a hand at my arm and assures, "It's nothing against you, Seifer.  There's simply not enough room for everyone to fight and you haven't had training in close quarters like this.  It's for everyone's safety that you remain here."

I blink at her, mentally unprepared to have a wordy version of Leon's typical explanation of 'you aren't ready yet.'  And funnily enough, I wish I had heard it directly from Leon.  No matter how many times he says 'kid' or 'brat', Leon still treats me like an adult who can handle the straight truth.  "I know," I tell Aerith, though my gaze is focused on Leon.  "I know I can't help, but I still want to."

Aerith smiles fondly and starts to say something in reply, but her words are obscured by a sudden rumble from beneath our feet.

A deafening clang sounds before the ground rises up in front of Leon, Strife, and Cid and sand showers down from the hidden trap door spanning at least ten feet each way.  In that dangerous moment when clouds of dust fill the entire room, something huge, dark, and fast crawls out from the created opening and launches directly at the waiting fighters.  For too long, I can't see anything beyond that damn haze and movements of shadows, a fact that makes stomach clench in panicked fear for Leon's safety.  And when I hear his voice curse in pain, I struggle against Aerith and Yuffie who are a lot stronger than they look.

The dust finally settles enough for us to get a view of the battle scene and only one thought comes to mind: "Scorpions aren't supposed to get that big."

Yuffie snorts at the comment.  "Size means nothing when it comes to sorcerers and their like.  Maleficent's favorite trick is to become a dragon twenty times her normal size."

That observation does little to help me cope with the sight of the monster scorpion that could easily snap a person in half with one of its claws.  And from the look of Leon's cut and bloodied shirt, it seems like the beast had already tried that trick on the man and failed.  While I hate seeing Leon injured like that, there's something intoxicating about the fighter colored with fresh blood and deeply focused on the battle ahead of him with a cold metallic gleam to his eyes.

A blur of black streaks toward Leon, but the gunblader dodges the striking tail with a causal grace and doesn't appear bothered when the wall behind him cracks at the force of the impact.  I, however, cringe at witnessing the demonstration of how the ladder had become so mangled.  Leon moves sharply to protect Strife's back from a vicious claw, and in that brief moment back-to-back, they somehow manage to debate and agree on an attack strategy before they part ways, the scorpion's tail landing on the ground left between them.

Strife jumps high to follow the tail's retreat while Leon stays low along with Cid to protect the mercenary from snapping claws.  It's dizzying to watch Strife hack at the armored tail, somehow utilizing brief footholds on the walls and tail to avoid the poisonous stinger.  For many long minutes, the buster blade seems useless against the scorpion's shell, a disheartening sight in itself, but Strife's determination doesn't falter and he's ultimately rewarded when the blade lands between the sectional pieces of armor.  For all of his previous effort, it's almost ridiculous how cleanly the top half of the tail breaks free from the scorpion.

The bug screams out at the injury and lashes out at the people causing it harm, but without the tail and stinger around as a threat, Cid makes his move to attack the scorpion's head with his spear.  Leon amazingly defends the old man's back against both pincers until Strife lends him a hand, though the aid doesn't amount for much when Cid finds a weak point in the armor and drives his spear through until only inches remain of the staff.  The scorpion jerks at the attack and yanks the spear free from the old man's hold, but a few uncoordinated steps later, the bug goes eerily still before slumping to the ground.

Aerith is the first to move from the alcove, the woman making a beeline for Leon and his still bleeding side.  Leon, however, waves her off and points in Strife's direction with the comment that the mercenary hadn't completely dodged the stinger's attacks.  Aerith promptly shifts her attention to Strife and grabs his arm before he can run off.  Though the cut itself is minor, the poison has already given his skin a grayish hue that can't be good.  While Aerith fusses over the blond, I step up to Leon while he examines his side wound.

Still confused by the mix of hate and desire at seeing Leon's blood, I comment hoarsely, "I wish I could heal that for you."

Leon glances up at me, his eyes pale silver in the dim light of the lair.  "Would you like to learn?"

Though initially surprised by the offer, I smile excitedly at the chance to learn more magic.  "I might make it worse."

"Doubtful.  You learned Shell and Protect without injuring yourself, so I'm hopeful that you can manage a novice spell like Cure," Leon says as he steps closer and grabs my hand to place it against his side above the slashed skin.  "It's not necessary to have contact, but it will help you to concentrate."

I stroke my thumb against his side, just able to feel his ribs beneath the material of his shirt.  "Are you sure about that?"

Leon huffs lightly, but continues with the lesson.  "Curative magic isn't about mending an injury, but giving a person 'health' which empowers a body to heal its own wounds.  It's very powerful magic, but not selective in the least."

"Hn, I remember you saying that before.  It's why you couldn't heal me on the construction site."

Something flashes in stormy eyes at the comment, but Leon doesn't elaborate on the emotion.  "Close your eyes and focus on me.  For beginners, it usually helps to envision a wounded person as a glass of water that has spilt some of its liquid and you need to pour more water back into the glass."

My eyes closed and my breath held, I listen to his voice and follow his instructions, but I don't feel the same stirring of magic as when I used Shell against Ultimecia.  Learning in the past that frustration won't help me in this situation, I shift my focus to the body in front of me and sense its pained tenseness.  Wanting to drive away that pain, I imagine a type of wind that could carry away everything that hurts Leon, and just like that, warm and _blue_ magic flows through me and into Leon.  I open my eyes at the perfect moment to witness the dark-haired man with closed eyes and his head tilted back in quiet pleasure.

"Good job, Seifer."

Startled at the female voice, I look to the side to find Aerith smiling softly at my successful first try at a cure spell.  Strife's grin isn't nearly so innocent, but I purposefully ignore him for Aerith's praise.  "Well, what else could you expect from one of Leon's students?"

"Nothing less than perfect," Aerith admits with a gentle chuckle.

Leon scoffs.  "Don't encourage him."

"Why, do you want to be the only one who encourages me?" I ask with a suggestive smirk, one that doesn't last long against the dark scowl that Leon sends my way.  Even so, I manage to hold my ground when I know Leon would love to see me back away in fear of his wrath.

"Enough chitchat," Yuffie calls out from behind us.  In a raised hand, she swings the chain and key that had caused all of the trouble with the scorpion.  "Let's get us some treasure!"

While everyone else migrates toward the stone door, I'm tackled from behind by Cid as the old man wraps a muscular arm around my neck and pulls me down to his level.  "Did you see me land that death blow, kid?  I hope you remember every moment 'cause you're goin' to be my witness for those asses back home who think I've lost my touch."

"Does that mean I get to tell them all how it was your fault to begin with?" I ask while struggling to escape his headlock.

Cid guffaws at the question and slaps me in the stomach with the same strength of a punch.  "Yer a good one, son, nothin' like the rest of that lot.  I'm glad Leon filched you from that undeservin' world of yours."

Still trying to catch my breath, I don't have the opportunity to respond before Cid moves on to Strife with a heavy pat to the man's back and a mocking word about a pair of kids needing an old man around to clean up their messes.  Still focused on his previous words, I find it strange to hear from Cid the same thought that has been running through my head as of late - I never belonged to Twilight Town.  As Cid so plainly put it, that place didn't deserve me or my romantic dreams for more.  But Leon... he's the person who will help me make those dreams come true.

Yuffie swings the chain a final time around her fingers before conceding to Leon's glare that there was a door to open.  Once the key slides into the lock, magical symbols flash across the stone along with metallic clicks before the door moves back an inch to reveal a crack of light.  Yuffie pushes the door the rest of the way, then gasping at the contents of the room.

"We're so fucked," she announces, stepping to the side so that the rest of us can see the rows upon rows of egg-shaped stones displayed on the same type of shelves that line the upper floors of the warlock's lair with books and scrolls.  "Say Aerith, is there enough detail in that book of Merlin's to know which one we're looking for?"

Aerith lifts a fretful hand to her mouth.  "The sketch only shows one side of the relic.  It doesn't even specify a size."

A hand fisted at her waist, Yuffie lifts her other hand to scratch the back of her head.  "Aw man, there's easily a hundred of those things.  How are we supposed to know the difference without, well, _using_ it on someone?"

"That's not an option," Leon states while glancing over the upper rows of stones.  "Beside the obvious, we can't assume the effects of these other relics.  They could be anything from bombs to imprisoned souls and I don't particularly want to find out which it is.  Aerith, unless you can determine some kind of identifying features for this thing, we may have to move onto another option."

Yuffie and Cid don't restrain their groans at the idea of starting over with yet another map, another desert, and another giant scorpion, but no one truly argues against Leon's rationale.  While brave, no one here is an idiot and they recognize a lost battle when they see one.

Leaning against the entryway, I glance over the rows of decorated stones, each of them given a stand to best display the magical item.  While they all have the same egg-like shape, there is a variety of sizes and colors that would normally help in the selection process, but not when compared to the charcoal sketch in Merlin's book.  Even so, something bothers me about the presentation of so many relics when there was supposedly only one vessel that could capture a soul.  Merlin had performed an extensive search and it doesn't make sense that he somehow missed learning about these other magical items made by the same warlock.

Frustrated at sight of too many questions when we were all hoping for an easy answer, I step away from the secluded room and stare up in thought about what I would do if I were a crazy sorcerer.  From the levels above, I notice the placement of statues such that they seemed to be looking down with their pained and angry expressions.  It's an intimidating sight, especially when it's been fairly easy to reach this point within the lair.  Shivering, I turn to face another direction, but find more statues staring down at me with the silent question of 'why did this happen to me?'  Just went I'm about find refuge within the opened room, a sudden thought comes to mind and I force myself to stare up at all of those statues, and spinning slowly, I realize that _all_ of the statues have been positioned to stare down at the lower level.  Angels and demons alike, gazing down with silent accusation.

"What are you doing?"

I chuckle at the question that comes mid-spin, forcing me to continue the child-like move before I face Leon and grin at his expression which doubts my sanity.  "They're mistakes.  They're all mistakes."

Leon frowns at my statement, but doesn't otherwise comment, something I take as permission to defend my theory.

"It's like you said earlier, those statues are all experiments that he used to figure out how to capture a soul, but for there to be so many of them, they must be failed experiments.  And look, he put all of the statues such that they could be seen from down here.  He _wanted_ to be reminded of his failure, to force himself to figure out the answer.  It's the same thing with those stones - they're all shit, but they've been put on display _because_ they are worthless.  The sight of them must've pushed him to the final solution, to his _one_ solution."

Leon stares at me, no, _through_ me like whenever he thinks about his lost lover.  He then breaths an odd laugh before asking, "Then where's the real one?"

Though instinctively suspicious of his question, I can't detect any ridicule in his voice.  "I don't know for certain, but... if I had one success after hundreds of failures, I'd probably want it within arm's reach," I think out loud, slowly turning until I face the work bench and the seated skeleton.

It seems obvious at that point and rather devious of the bastard warlock to cause so many deaths over a key that led to nothing.  Without saying anything to Leon, I walk over to the wooden desk covered in lit candles, half-disintegrated scrolls of paper, and dusty cobwebs.  Of course nothing of interest is in plain view on the desk, but after pushing aside a few large books, I grin at the sight of recesses in the otherwise smooth wall.  Drunk on the idea that I was right, I claw my fingers into the compacted sand and loosen the solid material free, not realizing until too late that the relic hadn't been placed into a protective shell like I expected.  Faster than I thought, the naked stone pops free of the wall and I instinctively grab the falling object, a weak curse leaving my lips when curved lettering abruptly shines to life with purple light.

I scream out at the instant onset of pain, the sensation something like a scab being torn from new flesh, but many, many times worse.  My world becomes nothing except the pain for a moment, for a lifetime, and then it's abruptly gone as suddenly as it came.  Unable to cope with that immense swing between sensations, I collapse to the ground, but I don't completely get there.  A strong arm at my waist and my body slumped against a chest that smells of gunpowder and blood, I don't need to open my eyes to know Leon had caught me.  Damn, why do I always make a fool of myself when he's right there to witness it?

"You _stupid_..." Leon growls, his gloved hand squeezing tightly at my side.  "What were you _thinking_ to do that?"

Since it's obvious that I wasn't thinking, I look down at my hand and notice the bright red mark at the back of my wrist that's going to be a nasty bruise by tomorrow.  "That hurts," I say... or rather, _try_ to say and choke on my breath when my voice doesn't sound.

"Almasy?" Leon questions, his voice still rough with anger, but there's enough worry to scare me even more.

I push up from him, and then notice that everyone else is watching, something that makes perfect sense given my previous screams, but it's still inconvenient.  Stumbling back a few steps, I try to get my voice to work, but nothing sounds except harsh rasps of breath.  Aerith hurries toward me and places a hand at my throat, the warm touch giving me something to focus on aside from blind panic.

Her brow furrowed, Aerith looks up at me and says, "Nothing is wrong, but something... something is different."

I can only meet her gaze, silently countering that I don't know what the fuck is happening.  Then something flickers in my peripheral vision and I glance upward to see nothing aside from those damn statues displayed under dim lighting.  Shit, I'm probably going to go crazy if I stay here much longer.

< _The shadows scream in voices that cannot be heard_ >

I jerk back at the statement spoken in a voice that I don't recognize, and in a panicked moment, I turn and stare at the warlock's skeleton, hoping to God that it wasn't him who had just talked.  A gloved hand wraps around my upper arm and I glance back at Leon, the fighter staring at me intently, perhaps looking for those first signs of insanity.

< _Frightened, barn?  That is unlike you, but you are not yourself this time, so it is... forgivable_ >

Stunned at the suggestion that the voice knows me, knew what I was, I glance down at Leon's necklace and stare at the pendant of the roaring lion that rarely leaves his body.  I can still hear Leon's words about the guardian force he calls 'Griever', a so-called tired soul living within him.

With a growled huff, the voice complains, < _To be rescued by a pet kitten... The_ Æsir _shall mock me for another century_ >

"Seifer..."

My gaze lifts up to meet Leon's and I can't help a small smile at him using my first name.  When another attempt to speak fails, I tap at Leon's necklace, and then point to my own chest.  Instead of relieving the serious man, Leon scowls sharply at the sign that the guardian force within me has awakened.  He glances down at the seemingly harmless stone left on the ground and sneers at the object that is supposed to save us from the wrath of a sorceress.

"Leon, what is--"

He cuts off Aerith to explain, "The relic must have tried to remove the guardian force from Seifer, and though I was in time to stop it, the guardian force is now awake."

"O-oh," Yuffie says as if understanding the situation, but then scrunches her nose in confusion.  "So, what does that mean?"

Leon shakes his head, unable to answer.

< _Choose your time and place, barn.  This is neither one_ >

Along with the message, I'm struck with the knowledge of what is wrong with the statues I've hated ever since we've stepped in this place.   I grab Leon's hand and begin to move toward the ladder, but the stubborn fighter resists my attempt to drag him along.  Though I have the nasty feeling Leon doesn't have a chance to understand me, I point at a clump of statues, and then motion over my chest with a circle and a line through it.  The first time I do the gestures, I make Leon frown.  The second time, I cause that amazing light of silver in his eyes.

"Aerith, throw that relic in the bag Merlin gave us.  We need to move and now," Leon commands, abruptly moving ahead of me without releasing my hand, the effect resulting in a switch of him dragging me toward the only escape route.  Though everyone follows his lead, Leon is eventually goaded into explaining, "When that warlock was trying to take souls, he was stealing hearts.  Those statues contain Heartless and they must be restless for Seifer's GF to notice them."

With the bottom part of the ladder useless, Strife gives Leon a leg up to the first sturdy rung.  I follow shortly after, supported by Leon when I nearly lose my grip.  Climbing up the ladder to the second level, I glance over at a demon with spiky hair and twin tears beneath his eyes, but I take greater notice of the deep crack creeping along his face, the fracture reaching his nose and causing the tip to drop off with a quiet clink against metal.  I move a bit faster at that point.  Aerith and Yuffie aren't far behind me, but before Cid gets off the ground, a statue across the room from the first level shatters with a banshee-like shriek.  It's like popcorn after that first explosion, at least ten more statues breaking apart to reveal inky creatures that poorly mimic the angel or demon mold that had imprisoned them for centuries.

Leon reaches the fourth level first and reaches down to grab my shirt and haul me onto the floor behind him.  Though nothing was called out, everyone else seems to take the same tactic of reaching the closest level and making a defendable spot against the sudden enemies.  For the first time in this place, I pull Helios free of its sheath and I stand back-to-back with Leon as two large Heartless approach us from either side.  With every step closer, I can feel their hate and soul-warping sorrow, but it's hard to feel pity for something that wants to kill me.

The pseudo-demon in front of me snarls before launching forward with an elongated arm and talon-like fingernails.  I parry the attack, but when I attempt the follow-through, Helios hits the outer railing and I nearly lose my gunblade with the stupid move.  Right, and this is why Leon didn't want me to help against that scorpion.  The Heartless takes advantage of my mistake and scores a hit at my upper arm, but it's a bearable wound compared to the idea that the same strike against my chest would've probably pierced my heart.

After several minutes of fighting, it becomes worrisomely apparent that this isn't going to work.  The Heartless are too old, too enraged to be subdued by our attacks, and when another few statues burst apart, even Leon and Strife are pressed to simply defend themselves from multiple attackers, let alone get in a clean strike.  There has to be another way to break through.

'What use are you?' I say soundlessly to the soul hiding within me.

< _I am more than you understand.  But tell me, why should I assist you?_ >

I duck when the Heartless in front of me lunges with both clawed hands.  Avoiding injury, I drive Helios up into the creatures' chest, only to push the thing back several steps and give it a slight cut across its dark body.  'I don't know.  Maybe because I could _die_ here with you trapped within me?'

< _That is not your reason to crave my strength_ >

Straightening with Helios held before me, I glance briefly at the blade partly created by Leon.  'It's pretty damn obvious what I want.  But what about you?  Is there something... anything I could offer in exchange?'

< _If I asked for your voice which has not spoken words of love to your other half, would you grant me it?_ >

'Of course.'

< _If I asked for your sight which has not seen his true smile, would you grant me it?_ >

Hesitating with my answer, I eventually say, 'If you swore to always protect him, then yes.  I'd give you my voice, my sight, my hearing, whatever the fuck you want.  Just _do_ something.'

A deep purr of laughter sounds, the reverberation oddly soothing the aches of my body.  < _Your answer should be boring, barn, but each time, it excites me.  Say the name you gave me.  Summon my strength and make it yours_ >

Dodging yet another attack, I snort at the ridiculousness at the instruction which involves both knowing the thing's name and being able to use my voice.  Then, just as I suddenly knew the presence of the Heartless, a name comes to mind along with the knowledge that it's the wrong name, but one he likes from me, the person I was and the person I will be.  Though confused and frustrated with a powerful soul playing games with my head, I can't refuse the offer of help, not when Leon has already said that he won't lose me here.

I slash Helios in front of me to gain some space from the determined Heartless and a touch of extra time.  Turning the gunblade point down, I place my hand at its hilt and mouth the words of 'summoning' that the guardian force had placed into my head, ending with, '... my body and life I place into your hands, appear before me: _Vidar_.'

Once I 'speak' the name, my body loses all sensation of strength and pain, warmth and touch, and I collapse to the floor with Helios clattering next to my side.  Looking up, I see the moment Leon loses his focus and stares down at me, his eyes an intense pale blue from unguarded terror.  Two winged Heartless reach for him in that fraction of a second, their dark talons brushing against his shirt before the creatures abruptly stop in mid-attack and burst into black dust.  A knife then flies through the air, barely missing Leon's neck as it plunges into the chest of the Heartless that I had been paired against.  The Heartless screams in frustration before falling apart into dust.

The resulting dark mist eventually parts to reveal a towering brute of a man with long golden hair and a braided beard.  The armor covering his chest and thighs appears old and well used, the dark metal bearing dents and scratches in an account of the battles he had witnessed and survived.  At his back, a fur cape hangs nearly to the ground and the ragged edges sway in a nonexistent wind.  His haggard face is expressionless, but his disturbing eyes of endless black and yellow pupils shine with a type of animalistic anticipation.  The slight bounce of his thick sword against his shoulder only furthers my guess that I've summoned something more than I could possibly control.

"Vidar..." Leon whispers reverently and lowers his gunblade to his side.  "You exist... And you've been with Seifer all this time?"

The guardian force smirks at the question, and without answer, he places his free hand to his shoulder and bows to the dark-haired fighter.  He then fades through the floor, and judging by the surprised curse from Yuffie, he has taken it upon himself to help the others at the lower levels.

Leon sheaths Lion Heart before kneeling next to me.  "Are you hurt?"

I shake my head since nothing felt damaged beyond repair when I first summoned that other soul.  Right now, I'm too numb to care.

"Hold on as best you can," Leon says while wiping dust from my face.  "We need your strength."

I snort at the request and mouth, 'Not mine.'

"And you don't understand the power of GFs like I do," the pale-eyed man scolds, but doesn't elaborate further when steps sound on the ladder.

"Damn, Leon, what hat did you pull _that_ miracle trick out of?" Yuffie asks before her head pokes over the ledge.  Her eyes go ridiculously wide at the sight of me flat on my back and she quickly crawls next to my other side.  "Oh no, don't tell me... don't say one of those inky bastards..."

"He's fine," Leon assures.  "He was the one to summon Vidar, but the magic is too much for him."

I want to argue out of spite, but aside from my lacking voice, the edges of my vision have grown too hazy and dim in a bothersome sign that I'm about to pass out.  Closing my eyes, I struggle to get my senses back under control and remain conscious for Strife and Cid's sake, no one yet mentioning that they were in the clear.  Then, without warning, energy rushes into me with the intensity of a flood, and much like a drowning person, I can't breathe, can't see, can't hear, can't find my way to salvation...

And then a hand grasps onto mine.  With the confidence that Leon will take me to safety, I surrender to the pull of unconsciousness and slip away into darkness.

~ > < ~

Not quite awake, no longer asleep, I first become aware of incredibly soft sheets covering my sore body.  Second is the scent of jasmine failing to overwhelm the burn of gunpowder.  Third is the brush of fingers on paper and the flip of a page.

Opening my eyes, I wince against the glare of more light than I was expecting, but my vision quickly adjusts to look at Leon sitting next to me on the apparent bed.  He looks freshly washed, his hair darker than normal given its dampened state and his cleaned skin seems paler in comparison.  His clothing consists of nothing more than a silky robe, a teasing sight with him seated with legs crossed and his back against the headboard.  I don't recognize the book, but that doesn't matter as I focus on the hand holding the book and his ring glinting with golden light.  It's strange how my hatred for the thing seems to fade each time I see it.

"It's not polite to stare," Leon comments, his gaze not leaving the page.

"But it sure is fun," I retort, and don't realize until a moment later that it was something of a miracle that my voice was working again.  I place a hand at my throat and stare up at Leon, the man not looking the least bit surprised as he closes his book and sets it to his other side.

Blue-gray eyes stare down at me in an unreadable gaze.  "Why do you make life so hard?"

I blink at the unexpected question.  "Do you mean your life?"

He doesn't immediately respond, Leon first lifting a hand to brush hair from my forehead.  "Each time I plan my life and settle with the realities I understand to be true, you appear and turn everything upside-down."

Though the words are harsh, I don't hear anything in his voice or see anything in his face that suggests his true thoughts either way.  "If you ask me, it sounds like you were enduring life before I showed up.  And if you want to know the truth, so was I.  Not at your same level, but that just means I know how much worse it must have been for you."

Not noticeable at first, a slow smile forms and Leon breathes a laugh.  "Hyne, I warned Strife about you, but I never listened to my own warning."

While I'm curious what exactly Strife was told, I decide to let it slide for now since I know that I won't get a real answer and there's more important information to be had while Leon is talking.  "So, where are we?" I ask, glancing around the room that is nothing like the inn room we had used before.

"I called in one of Sora's favors.  We're staying at the royal palace until you're ready to travel."

"Whoa," is the best reply I can form, my brain struggling with the idea that some king owed that spiky-haired kid big enough to allow a group of strangers to sleep within the palace walls.  And what a place to sleep - expensive sheets on a wide mattress, gold and jewels decorating the furniture, and a functional bathing area where Leon must have cleaned up.  I then glance down at my own partially covered body and realize that I'm also clean, not to mention naked besides a pair of boxers... and I wasn't awake for any of it.

"Don't look so disappointed," Leon chides lightly.

"No justice in the world," I mutter before meeting his gaze.  "So, what happened back there, anyway?  And what's the deal with that 'Vidar' character?  You recognized him, but you seemed surprised."

"One thing at a time," Leon says as he relaxes back against headboard.  A wrinkle then forms between his eyebrows, his typical expression whenever forced to explain something in length.  "Aerith has already examined the relic, and while Merlin will give the final assessment, it doesn't seem to be as strong as described.  It can only capture weak souls or ones that are loosely bound to a body, like the guardian force living within you."

I frown at the example, something teasing my thoughts with the idea.  "Will it work against Ultimecia?"

"It should.  That isn't her original body to claim."

My throat goes dry at the thought.  "That isn't your body, either."

"Unlike you, I'm not planning to touch a magical item that steals souls."

I bite my tongue, knowing that the excuse of 'I didn't mean to' wouldn't fly with Leon.

He eyes me, perhaps waiting for that exact statement before moving on.  "Fortunately, I was there to knock the relic from your hand, but in the meantime, Vidar had junctioned with you to save himself from being trapped."

"... 'Junctioned'?"

"It's what GFs do to join with their hosts.  When junctioning occurs, several things happen: both the GF and host become stronger, the host can summon the GF into this plane, and on occasion, knowledge can be shared."

"GF and host," I repeat in an amused tone.  "You make it sound like these GFs are parasites or something."

"They are."  At my stunned gaze, Leon explains, "When junctioning takes place, a GF doesn't give its strength and freedom in return for nothing.  Most of their kind only takes away some magical power, sometimes the host is physically weaker unless another GF is in place to support that loss in strength.  The stronger ones are more complicated.  In your case, junctioning with Vidar temporarily took away your voice."

"But... _why?_   I can understand the thing wanting more energy, magical or otherwise, but what the hell does my _voice_ have to do with anything?"

"Vidar is a legendary GF - the obedient, but recluse son of another one named Odin.  In our history books, Vidar was called the 'Silent One', and per legend, he never spoke unless someone else took upon the penance for him.  That is why all of his previous hosts lost their voice in exchange for his service, a heavy price for someone in battle since it takes away the ability to use magic, not to mention the basic power to cry out for help or in warning."

"And yet, I'm fine now."

"I forced him to unjunction with you.  While he refused to leave your body, he's gone back into a dormant state... However, he's aware this time and most likely waiting for another opportunity to use you.  It's too dangerous to rely on his power.  I don't want you summoning him a second time."

I hide a grin at Leon's possessive tone.  "Didn't he save our asses back in the desert?"

"Because you stupidly touched the relic and stirred an ancient spirit to life," Leon lashes back at me, "the power of which awakening those Heartless that have spent centuries clawing away at their prisons.  It was a chance occurrence and it won't happen again, so don't listen to his lies or bargains about saving you.  Or saving me."

I purposely don't agree to his demand and better use my time to study at the man who isn't the stoic warrior nor the hardass trainer I have grown to admire in these past months.  Instead, I recognize the lost soul who had accused me for leaving him behind and I want nothing more than to hold him and prove I'm still here.  And suddenly, that doesn't seem like such a bad idea and I push up from my prone position to move closer to the smaller man.

Leon eyes me guardedly for my closeness, but his lack of argument only serves to motivate me further.  I reach across his body and place my hand over his left hand to cover the distracting sight of his ring.  With my other hand, I slowly push aside the sleek material of his robe to reveal more of his pale skin and decoration of scars.  Leon lets the robe slip over his shoulder, but his quiet glare suggests that I'm not allowed to go any further.  I'm not bothered by the drawn line, my attention instead focused on the terrible scar located beneath his shoulder.  With frost-like lines trailing from the fist-sized mass of scars, I can't begin to guess what caused the injury, but I can assume magic was involved.  I brush my fingers over the jagged lines of the scar and think about how much time must have passed and how much pain had been endured between receiving the injury and being healed.

"It's ugly," Leon says in a voice that barely sounds.

"It's life," I retort.  When I receive a glare in response, I explain, "Something like this would have killed most people, but you survived and continued living.  This scar is a mark of life."

With a harsh scoff, Leon lifts his hand to the back of my head and toys with my hair.  "I shouldn't encourage you."

"I think you aren't encouraging me enough," I argue while leaning forward.  When Leon doesn't pull back or threaten me, I close the distance to press my lips against his.  He doesn't react except to smirk slightly, leaving it to me to figure out what I'm doing with the kiss.  Deciding that his mouth is too dangerous for a kid of my experience, I move lower to taste his neck and enjoy the clean scent that doesn't have a hint of blood.  After several attempts, I finally entice a shaky breath from the brunet when I tongue the white scar lines that lead from his collar bone and to the thicker mass of scars.  God, I never knew the sound of a single breath could take away mine.

Abruptly, a soft musical tone carries over from the nightstand, and though I'm perfectly prepared to ignore the recognizable ring, Leon pushes me back with a firm press of fingers and slides his hand from mine to reach the communication device.  Leon scowls at the names of 'Chip and Dale' listed in large letters, and after adjusting his robe, he presses the 'receive' button on the screen.

" _Leon!_ " the two chipmunks call out from the small screen, their little tails wagging madly.

"This better be good," Leon says, his voice steady and tame compared to the angry glare he gives them.

"It's a red-alert!" the rodent with the fatter nose announces, handedly pushing aside his counterpart.  "That there shield you put up in Sunset City just went _craaazy._ "

" _Dale_ , you dummy," the other one chirps as he shoves back.  "It's _Twilight Town_ , not Sunset City.  How many times do I have to--"

"Wait, both of you," Leon interrupts, his controlled tone not at all reflecting the sudden jump of my heart.  "What exactly is happening there?"

"The shield is under attack--"

"--and while it's holdin' up fer now--"

"--something is hitting it hard and--"

"--it's already at _eighty-seven percent strength!_ "

Leon studiously avoids looking at me, his dark eyebrows furrowed in fast thought.  "We finished our mission here and we'll leave within the hour.  Tell Merlin to be ready for our arrival and that we're on a short timeline.  Understood?"

"Aye, aye!" the chipmunks reply in unison, the screen flashing to black.

"Twilight Town..." I whisper, as if not believing what I had just heard.

"That's where Ultimecia first found you," Leon reasons while moving to the edge of the mattress.  "In the past, she didn't get to choose the battlefield of her last stand.  Now, she is happily returning the courtesy."

"But... my _family_ is there."

Leon pauses once standing from the bed and glances back at me.  "Then we have more reason to fight harder."

Recognizing that something in the man was beginning to close off, I stand up on the mattress and hurry to move in front of Leon.  His eyes guarded and posture stiff, I don't have the focus or energy to figure what I said to upset him.  All I can do is remind him that I left my family behind to follow his lead and I have yet to regret that choice... well, for any real length of time.

"Seifer, there isn't time--"

I take his hands into mine and squeeze tightly.  "I want you to meet them.  My mother will hate you, my step-father will thank you, and Quisty will think you're the greatest."

Leon tilts his head at my words that were shakier than I wanted.  "And why would your mother hate me?"

Though surprised at him humoring me, I feel a little bit better with the illusion that we didn't have to rush after all.  "Because you stole me away.  And I don't really know how she'll take the idea of me wanting an older man."

"A mother's love is hard to discourage."  A cold hand lifts to my cheek and Leon leans up to brush his lips against mine, a consoling touch in the middle of chaos.  "And I will do everything in my power to protect your family."

"I trust you."  And it hurts to think just how much do.

"Then get dressed," Leon says with a light push.  "We still have to inform the others and prepare the Gummy ship."

Following his command, I find my usual clothes folded on top of a dresser and quickly dress in my loose pants, vest, and sleeveless jacket that feels heavy compared to what I have been wearing the last several days.  I grab my boots and move to the bed to put them on, learning many weeks back that untied laces are a poor choice when in the middle of a fight.  One boot laced up, I start tightening the second one when a sudden and worrisome thought comes to mind.

"Hey, Leon, if Ultimecia is attacking Twilight Town, does that mean she already found a Knight?"

Fitting the smaller belts to his forearm, Leon replies, "That's safe to assume."

"Who is it?"

"... Don't let it confuse you.  No matter who it is, he or she is already under Ultimecia's thrall."

"Wait, does that mean somebody is going to fight us... when they don't even want to?"

"Maybe, maybe not."  Another belt, another clasp.

"Then, what, we're supposed to fight that person, maybe _kill_ that person when they aren't thinking for themselves anymore?"

Jerking on his gloves, Leon steps in front of me, his eyes cold and unforgiving.  "You tell me: if a sorceress conquered your mind and made you commit horrible crimes, would you blame the person who stopped you, even if it meant taking your life?"

"How can you say that?  If we handle Ultimecia, that sets the Knight free, right?"

Though a faint smile forms, there's a sorrowful hint to the curl of lips.  "One day, Almasy, you'll learn that answers aren't always that simple."

I scowl at the condescending statement.  "If you try hard enough, you can make anything happen."

"There's no such thing as 'hard enough'," Leon says in a tired voice, and then turns around to head for the door.

I want to say something back, to argue that Leon is proof that determination can conquer so much, but watching his retreating back, I come to the realization that I'm an idiot.  Of course Leon understands defeat far better than I ever would.  The man lost his world and husband to the same Heartless onslaught that has invaded the rest of these worlds.  The only difference - this universe had the Keyblade Master while his world didn't.  It must have killed him to survive when others were left behind, and yet, he's still here.  He's here and he found me.

Leon already gone to rouse the others, I feel numb while pushing up from the bed and stepping across the room to collect Helios and its holster.  I stare at the hilt of unusual blade and wonder briefly if Rai and Fuu will even believe me that it's a functioning weapon.  ...Shit, what was I thinking to only worry about my family when far more people are in trouble here?  Even those goofs Pence, Hayner, and Olette could be in serious danger, especially if they try to do something noble, otherwise known as stupid.  And with that thought, I finally appreciate what Leon feels every time I step on a battlefield.

Fastening the holster around my waist, I stare at the dark metal circles that shine with protective magic and the worn leather that had lost its newness a good week ago.  I rest my hand on the hilt of my gunblade and glance over at the full-length mirror in the corner of the room.  It's weird to look at my reflection and see the image of man who is about to save his family and friends from an evil witch and her dark forces...

... This isn't as romantic as I thought it would be.

 

{Continued}


	5. Chapter 5

[Squall]

I never cared for space travel.  There's something frustrating about staring out into that dark infinity and realizing how none of this really matters.  Ultimecia may very well succeed in her desire to dominate this fraction of the universe, but it won't amount to anything more than a blink of time; meanwhile, the lives threatened by her existence hold the same worth as specks of dust, easily brushed aside and promptly forgotten.  My whole world was lost and no one cared, or even _knew_ except for my lost soul and its ragged memories, and yet here I am, trying again to save the important pieces of my life from the suffocating darkness.

I know I'm an idiot - I don't need the universe to remind me of that.

Though I'm anxious to land and see a blue sky, I ease up on the throttle and let the gummi ship drift along with the gravity of the small world ahead of us.  The young blond at my side instantly straightens at the action and turns awkwardly in his seat to focus narrowed green eyes on me.

"What are you _doing?_ " Seifer demands with a slight shakiness to his voice.  "The shields around Twilight Town are at seven-percent and you're _slowing down?_ "

"The shields have been hovering under ten-percent for almost thirty minutes," I say with a disinterested wave toward the screen flashing with harsh red numbers.  "They should have fallen by now, but Ultimecia has apparently decided that she wants us to witness the collapse of the shields and she will wait as long as necessary to destroy the hearts of her enemies.  In the meantime, we need to talk."

Seifer blinks several times before renewing his glare.  "You... _You_ want to _talk_."

"Not 'want to', but 'need to'," I clarify dryly, resisting the tempting desire to drop the unspoken subject entirely.

The teen scowls at my response, but doesn't continue his argument.  Instead, he slumps back in his chair and jerks his chin forward in an haughty sign for me to say my piece.

"Your family may die today."  The arrogance in Seifer's expression evaporates into nothing, a touch of honest fear slipping into his too young eyes.  "There are no rules to war and Ultimecia is quite fond of abusing that harsh reality.  No matter how innocent your family and friends may be in all of this, they are still involved for no other reason than that they know you."

"Wh--" Seifer chokes slightly on his breath before continuing.  "What would the bitch do to them?"

I shrug.  "She's fond of electricity, I suppose.  However, she has spent many years planning this day and I don't like to underestimate her creativity."

Seifer lifts a hand to his head, and when he doesn't find his hat, he scratches his fingers deep into golden blond.  "I didn't... I thought..."

"That I'd be able to do the impossible and keep everyone safe?  That I was some fairytale hero who can't be defeated?"

When a faint embarrassed blush reaches his cheeks, I know that it was exactly what the teen had been thinking.  "But you... you said that you would..."

"I promised to do everything within my power to protect them," I assure softly, "but that means you have to _listen_ to me.  I don't need you to panic and run off at the first hint that their lives are in danger.  If you do that, everything will fall apart and I won't be able to help you or those important to you.  Do you understand?"

Something dark flickers in green eyes, a reflection of the man who would resist me over every minor issue for the simple pleasure of driving me crazy.  But that rebellious gleam fades to something quieter when Seifer demands, "Tell me that you won't sacrifice them."

"... ...?"

"My family.  Tell me that they are worth more to you than those people murdered by that warlock.  Tell me that they aren't... _pawns_ in this game between you and the sorceress bitch."

It's hard to continue meeting Seifer's gaze and know the answer I have to give.  "I've seen what the universe will become if Ultimecia is allowed to rule.  I refuse to let that happen, even if your family or anyone else in Twilight Town are lost as a result."

The teen visibly struggles with this part of my personality, his eyes shifting in disbelief before he asks, "Would you sacrifice me?"

"This isn't the time--"

" _Would you sacrifice me?_ "

I sigh quietly and reluctantly shake my head.  "No, that isn't an option."

Conflicting emotions darken Seifer's expression.  "Then you could let a whole city die for the chance to stop Ultimecia, but using my life to destroy her 'isn't an option'?  Even when I'm what she wants?  I mean, fuck, surely you can devise someway to use me as bait and trick her into lowering her guard."

"The risk isn't worth the price."

"I don't _understand_.  Why am I different?  Is it because...?"  He doesn't finish the sentence, but his eyes glance down at my gloved hand and the ring hidden there.

I breathe a laugh at how little this kid understands me, even if he manages a few good guesses every now and again.  "How I feel about you has nothing to do with this.  The simple truth is that you're important."  At the glare of doubtful green, I go further to explain, "Seifer, no one learns how to wield a gunblade in a month, no one masters magic by learning the complex spells first, and no one recognizes and adapts to the rules of new worlds when they are too young to know that other worlds even exist.  No one, except those who are meant to accomplish more than what the rest of us can begin to imagine."

Uncomfortable with the weight of my words, Seifer places a hand at his shoulder and squeezes uncertainly.  "I'm not that great."

"Not yet, and that's why losing you isn't an option."

He frowns at that rationale, not yet ready to accept the expectations of his destiny.  Perhaps one of these days, I should take him to Olympus and introduce him to the Fates of this universe, maybe even get some answers for myself.  More likely than not, they would fight over their one good eye to get a lasting look at this boy on the edge of manhood....  But that would first require Seifer to have future beyond today.

The teen adjusts his position in his seat and stares out into space.  "You're such a bastard.  Every time I lower my guard, you remind me that I think too small.  I wanted to see a new world, and you showed me a universe.  I wanted to use a real blade, and you made me use more muscles than I knew I had.  You're always, _always_ ten steps ahead of me and I can't catch up."

I say nothing in respect of his frustration, an anger I understand all too well from the days when I chased behind the older gunblader and dealt with my desire to be his equal on the battlefield.  It took a few years after that to understand what else I craved from the blond, something I thought was impossible for years.  I had considered it confirmed as hopeless within the confines of D-district prison.  In stark contrast, this Seifer figured out the reason for his base emotions in months, and now refuses to doubt what is possible for the future.  Why couldn't I have been that strong in the past?  Maybe... But no, I can't dwell on the past.  Things happened as they were meant to happen and I can't regret those days and nights spent with the people and the man I loved.

"Y'know, I used to dream about being a hero," Seifer says with a grim smile.  "I always thought that if I got stronger and improved my technique, then I could protect my mother for once.  My sister, too.  But I never considered that protecting them would mean that there was _something_ to protect them _from_.  I just assumed..."

I briefly think to assure him that many fighters share that same motivation, but something else in his words and his tone steals my attention.  "What do you mean by 'for once'?"

Seifer glances at me with an odd energy to his eyes, a light that is quickly shadowed by his raised hand when he strokes the scar at the bridge of his nose.  "... When this is done, I'll tell you about how I got this.  But not until then, okay?"

The final word has a sharp pitch of hope to it and I almost smile at Seifer creating that 'something to live for' in this messy situation.  I'm no better with my ideas of taking him to Olympus, but I'm used to these situations and the need to have something real waiting beyond a battle.  Such was the cabin in our past lives, the loss of which taking away Seifer's last resolve, and without his passionate presence, I was lost as well.  But now...

I can't lose him again and Seifer should to know that.

Not allowing myself the chance to question my actions, I reach out for Seifer's wrist and force his palm open; meanwhile, I use my other hand to remove the heavy necklace and Griever pendant from my neck for the first time in years.  It's strange to watch the silver links pool in Seifer's gloved hand and not feel any regret in losing this piece of me.  ...No, even if Seifer never returns the necklace, it won't be lost, just as the ring I gifted to my other Seifer wasn't lost, at least not until the Heartless destroyed everything I knew and loved.

"I... _I can't_ ," Seifer declares, even as his fingers curl around the polished silver in a tight hold.

"I had a ring once with the same image that I gave to the husband of my past," I explain softly.  "I never understood why I decided to have both items made, but it makes sense now."  At Seifer's blank stare, I inform the teen, "That belonged to him.  This belongs to you."

Though uncertainty is clear in his expression, Seifer pulls the necklace closer as if to examine its quality.  "But... isn't this Griever?"

After a moment of confusion, I realize the reason for his hesitancy.  "The image is Griever, but the two of us are joined in spirit, just as your soul is bound to Vidar.  Bits and pieces of metal have nothing to do with it."

With a slow and foolish smile at that information, Seifer pulls the heavy chain over his head and positions the pendant over his chest.  He rubs the metal with a gloved thumb as if to remove a smudge, and then looks at me with a determined gleam to his green eyes.  "Let's get to Twilight Town and kick that bitch's ass.  Then I want to hear more about why this belongs to me."

I smirk at his renewed energy and sharp confidence, pleased to have Seifer at my side for another battle.  Though he may not have the same strength of old, that never really mattered.  Instead, I need him there as a force to remind me why I bothered to fight and struggle to stay alive for all of these years, and why continue to wake up each morning with new breath and new hope.  Only Seifer has given me a purpose in life and I'll do anything to protect that reality.

Returning my hands to the gummi ship controls, I press forward on the throttle and encourage the ship into the harsh atmosphere of the small planet.  The constant haze around Twilight Town makes the ship shake from turbulence, but it's a momentary thing before we break through and see the same field that I had used when I first landed here only months ago.  A heavier gummi ship has already settled on the long grass, its passengers standing next to the ship while waiting for our arrival.  They were told previously about our likely delay - no one had argued against the unfortunate necessity.

Lost in some kind of thought, Seifer doesn't move from his seat while I shut down the gummi systems.  After standing up, I place a hand at Seifer's shoulder and I nod my head toward the exit of the ship once I have his attention.  His eyes gain a hard edge of cut emerald, a sign that Seifer had reached a dangerous decision in the last several minutes.  A flash of worry enters my mind at the sight, but when Seifer smirks and stands without a hint of his previous fear, I know that I've lost.  I may have always had the skill and logic necessary to win battles, but Seifer was the one with the passion to overcome the impossible.

"Say, Leon, do you remember when you told me that there were people in this universe who could use a knight?"

I frown at the question, only vaguely recalling the discussion that had happened after Ultimecia's first visitation in Radiant Garden.

His smirk sharp and demanding, Seifer leans in close and whispers against my ear, "If you were talking about yourself, you should've just said so."

Not waiting for my reaction, the teen brushes his shoulder against mine and moves to the back of the ship to lower the access ramp.  My gaze follows Seifer without truly seeing him, my mind instead coping with the revelation that Seifer had stumbled upon.  Years ago, I defeated Ultimecia before she could take Seifer and change him into her Knight.  I _won_ and keep him as _mine_.  But then the darkness dared to invade my life and took Seifer away for a second time.  Since that time, I've been flailing, searching for a reason to live and survive.  I had lost my strength and my will to exist, and at the core of everything, I had lost my _Knight_...

The ramp clangs softly when it reaches the ground, soon followed by the thuds of Seifer's long stride against metal.  The sound of boot on metal wakes me from distracting thoughts, thoughts I can't afford to dwell upon with this battle ahead of us.  Raking fingers back through my hair, I take a deep breath to clear my head and quiet the ache of my chest.  Once back under control, I place a hand at the hilt of Lion Heart and follow after Seifer's lead.

Though I had been delayed only a moment, the damage had already been done to the rest of the group.  Compared to the boy I had picked up from this quiet town, Seifer stands with the type of pride that naturally keeps his head high and his back straight.  As a result, the Griever pendant at his raised chest stands out boldly and shines with the reddish glare of twilight for everyone to see.

While Aerith places a startled hand to her mouth, Yuffie smiles with a full show of teeth, looking like someone who had won the lottery.  "I knew it!  He was your Seifer after all, you stubborn idiot."

Seifer grins with confused interest at the statement; meanwhile, I scoff as the extent of my opinion toward her optimistic assumptions.

Lowering her hand, Aerith's lips set into a disappointed frown.  "While I knew Cid would be a bad influence... _Leon_ , I never expected this from you."

"Don't say that, Aerith!" Yuffie scolds.  "So what if Squall is robbing the cradle.  They're meant to be together like... like _Beast_ and his Beauty!"

I place a hand over my eyes and rub at my temples, purposefully ignoring the amused look Seifer sends me, most likely questioning which one of us was 'Beauty' and which was the 'Beast'.

"Anyways," Yuffie continues in her apparent defense of our relationship, "that old geezer is a million times worse than our leader.  It's totally unfair to compare the two of them.  Squall is practically an _angel_ compared to that horny bastard."

"Hey now, missy," Cid speaks out in reflexive offense, but promptly loses his steam when his brow furrows in deep confusion.  "Now, wait a minute, what's this here all 'bout?  Did I miss somethin'?"

"Yes," Cloud replies dully as he pushes up from his leaning position against the gummi ship.  Though his words reveal nothing, his eyes shine brightly with the glow of unearthly sapphire.  Bastard, he doesn't have to seem so pleased about my inevitable surrender.  Without vocal commentary about the issue, Cloud adjusts his leather gloves and announces, "If we're stocked and ready, we should finish this."

At the reminder of the battle ahead of us, everyone gains a firmness to their stance and the previous matter becomes something unimportant in the face of greater evil.  While that doesn't imply I've escaped future lectures from Aerith, an unspoken reprieve has been granted until after this mess has been settled.

I take a step forward and tell the others, "Our teams remain the same - Seifer and Aerith with me; Cid and Yuffie stay with Strife.  Any questions?"  When no argument arises, I nod and look in the direction of Twilight Town.  From this distance, the city looks quiet and unsuspecting of the sorceress beyond their worthless gates.  They had done nothing to deserve their fate, but that fact alone won't protect them from Ultimecia's obsessive desire for revenge, just as so many others died when unknowingly standing in the path toward her vision of the future.

But no more.  No more fallen blood of the innocent, no more shredding of my soul, and no more tears for everything that I have lost.

One way or another, the cycle ends today.

~ > < ~

The gates to Twilight Town are as I remember them - covered in gold paint and bearing a few too many looping pieces of metal to be taken seriously as a form of protection over the quiet city.  Without the shields I had put in place, Ultimecia could have walked pass the simple barrier without any opposition.  As it is, the magical protection did little more than warn us about the sorceress' intentions, while also giving Ultimecia an easy method to lure us into her vision of revenge.

One day, I'll figure out why I continue to face this woman on her terms.

Cloud is the first to stop his approach to the golden gates, his halt prompting the rest of the group to slow and wait in respect of the soldier's greater sense when it comes to danger.  I move the remaining few feet to stand next to Cloud, at that point recognizing the energy that had made the blond swordsman pause.  Squinting against the twilight sun, I focus on the shadows created by the brick wall leading up to the ornate gates.

Seated near that entrance, a dark figure appears completely unguarded in his slumped position with his arms resting on a bent knee and his head bowed such that the navy blue scarf tied at his forehead covers his face.  His clothes are old fashioned with loose pants, a laced long-sleeved shirt, and a vest of cracked leather, the entire outfit bearing gashes and dark stains from a hard life.  It's somewhat surprising that Ultimecia had to travel as far as the pirate world to find her Knight, but even so, she has proven her good taste once again, able to dominate a person who comes across as threatening without a weapon in sight and resting in an inattentive state.

"Welcome home, my lost Knight," a woman's voice states with a musical lilt.  From the side and seemingly out of nowhere, Ultimecia walks toward the entrance with a small bouquet of wild flowers in her hands and an unnatural lightness to her step, looking for all the world like a young lady lost in blissful thought.  It's somewhat disturbing that her desire to enact revenge could evoke the same response as a woman in love.

"This is a stunning city," Ultimecia continues in the same tone.  "There's something beautiful and absolutely _perfect_ about a quiet town constantly bathed in blood-colored light."

With a low growl, Seifer slides a foot forward at the implied threat, but wisely limits his reaction to that.

Golden eyes bright while playing her game, Ultimecia lifts the flowers to smell their fragrance.  "Of course, I have yet to see the town from beyond these gates.  I'm rather anxious to meet people who have never witnessed magic or learned how to fight against demons hungry for flesh.  I can already imagine the symphony of their screams and the taste of their despair."

"Enough, Ultimecia," I warn before she can lure Seifer into acting without thought and away from my protection.  "This town holds nothing for you.  Face us and face us alone."

With the charm of her stolen body, Ultimecia tilts her head in imaginary thought before replying, "No, that would make things too easy for you and that's not allowed."

As if commanded by those words, the dark figure begins to stand with a degree of controlled grace that is guided more by strength than natural ability.  Halfway standing, he reaches behind his legs and grabs something from the ground, and as he straightens, the grind of metal against dirt eventually reveals a heavy and ridiculously large blade, of which I never imagined a twin.

" _No_ ," Cloud whispers in horror, his eyes abnormally dull with a haunted gaze.

I curse inwardly when it becomes obvious that this unlucky Knight is the one Cloud likes to describe as his 'light'.  I'm not certain what I had imagined when Cloud first mentioned that there was someone out there for him, someone he needed to keep away the insanity that plagues him daily, but this isn't the man I had in mind.  A shadow of _wrongness_ looms over the fighter.  The soft glow of his calm blue eyes, the way he holds his blade, the posture of his body, and the cut of his hair... all of them are frightening reminders of Cloud and it doesn't settle well with me.

Glancing at the blond soldier, I frown at his unusual withdraw from the situation and wonder if Cloud had gotten this wrong.  While I normally don't like to doubt him, Cloud had originally miscalculated the issue around Sephiroth and this situation is no different.  I have a nagging feeling that this Knight isn't the cure to his madness, but instead may have been the cause.

"Oh my," Aerith breathes with a quiet tremor in her voice.  "She placed a death shroud over him.  He'll do whatever she wants... to the point of sacrificing his life."

While the fact doesn't surprise me much, a strange shadow darkens Cloud expression as his eyes regain a sharp focus.  "Can it be lifted?"

The kindhearted woman hesitates to respond, an answer I already know from past experience.  Saving Aerith the pain, I speak the words that she wishes weren't true - "Someone must die first."

Cloud's response is immediate, his unusual eyes shifting to the sorceress in the split second before he launches at her.  Ultimecia smiles softly at the deadly attack, never moving as the sprinting soldier draws his buster blade and levels the weapon for her delicate throat.  Darkness seems to flow in front of Cloud, promptly followed by a shower of sparks that ignite when his etched weapon clashes against its brother instead of the sorceress' pale flesh.  The fighters' gazes meet in that barest of moments, Cloud's blue eyes appearing slightly green compared to the truer blue of the Knight's stare, and then the Knight smirks before acting.  His buster blade lowers in a reckless move, putting Cloud sufficiently off balance as the Knight swings the flat of his blade forward.  Knocked clean of his feet, Cloud flies backward until landing nearly in the same spot that he had started from, and though dazed, he manages to recover his footing and crouch in a defensive position with his monstrous blade held in front of his body.

Laughing in pleasure, Ultimecia tosses her small bouquet to the ground, save for a single, pale pink flower.  "Isn't he lovely, my chosen Knight?" she asks while stepping around the dark-haired man to slip the flower within a small tear in his shirt.  "So strong, so _loyal_... Do you wish to know where I found him?"  Though no one answers, she continues on with a bright smile.  "I traveled between several worlds when I found a beautiful island that reminded me of my lost land and castle.  It was chance that led me to the beach, and there he was, a man trapped in a funeral box, apparently sentenced to death.  I sensed his ability instantly and knew he would be my Knight, but the stubborn fool waited three days in darkness before agreeing with my greater reason," she says much like one would teasingly describe her first meeting with a loved one.  She even brushes her fingers along the Knight's bare arm in a display of affection.

I frown at the mockery of love, but then notice how the fighter seems to cringe at the sorceress' flirting touch.  Hn, maybe the man isn't as lost as he should be.

Golden eyes move away from the Knight and settle on Cloud, the blond soldier growling lowly, but unmoving.  Ultimecia smiles fondly at the open sign of angered frustration and I wonder if she can sense something deeper, perhaps otherworldly, about the man she had claimed as her own.

"Now that you have met my new pet, I believe the courtesy should be returned," Ultimecia states as she steps away from her Knight and toward the ornamental gates.  She lifts her hand such that the shields spark against her fingertips and she directs a merciless smile at Seifer.  "I've been wanting to meet the ones who raised you to be so... _disappointing_."

Before Seifer has the chance to launch after the sorceress and I think to restrain him, Ultimecia releases her magic against the weakened shields.  It's almost pitiful how the shields try to withstand the attack of blue lightning, but magical runes were never meant to hold against a powerful sorceress, especially one grounded by a Knight.  The resulting flash of broken magic pushes me back a step, and once the light clears from my eyes, I notice that Seifer had been knocked to his knees by the unexpected wave of power.

With an exhaled breath of success, Ultimecia briefly smiles at the unprotected gates before glancing back at her Knight.  "Don't be gentle with them, my pet.  If they die, then they die, but I trust that at least one will live to amuse me further," she says, her golden eyes drifting in my direction.

The dark-haired fighter lifts his blade in response, prepared to spill blood for his mistress.

Her smile broadening, Ultimecia runs a hand through her hair in a flippant manner.  "Well, I mustn't keep my hosts waiting.  Until we meet again, dear Lion... if the gods deem you worthy enough," she adds in a mocking manner.

I meet her golden-eyed gaze and offer a small, challenging smile without any vocal rebuttal, something that makes the sorceress lose her good humor.  Revealing a piece of the demon lying within her, Ultimecia glares at me with a shadow of dark energy to her eyes, but she then turns and waves a hand in front of her to open the gates with an angry gust of wind.  Some of her grace lost, Ultimecia strides past the bent metal of painted gold and enters the city that has no chance to defend itself against the sorceress.

Cloud huffs at the woman's departure.  "You saw it."

While I nod without needing further clarification, Cid steps closer and demands, "Whaddya mean you saw somethin'?  'Cause I don't know 'bout you, but I saw her leavin' us with a sharp-toothed watchdog while she has _words_ with the kids' family."

"Her hand was burnt," Cloud states.

I finish the explanation by saying, "Her connection with the Knight isn't complete."

Cid straightens with interest.  "Then the lady can't control her powers, eh?  So that's why she's still playin' her games."

"Games, but deadly," I amend while eyeing the dark-haired Knight.  Unmoving from his previous stance, the fighter simply watches and waits for our first move.  I have no doubt that he will attack and with all of his strength, but it's incredible to see him resist her control to this extent.  "We don't have time to waste.  Strife, Cid - attack 34.  Seifer, Aerith - be ready to run."

"Wait, who fuckin' numbered--"

Cloud doesn't wait for Cid to remember our early morning strategy sessions from the previous week.  His buster blade held parallel to the ground, the blond soldier launches out of his crouched position and sprints into a head-on attack.  The Knight does nothing for several precious seconds, but his eyes gain a brighter glow while watching the approach of his opponent.  Cloud leaps into the air to cover the last several steps, the sight of the overly confident attack drawing a sneer from the dark-haired fighter.  The Knight shifts his blade to a single hand, and with a firm step forward, he pivots his body to swing the heavy weapon at the airborne soldier.  Cloud pulls his body into a tight ball at the right moment, his blade protecting him from the harsh force of impact, but he's still knocked aside... right where I want him.

Focused on the soldier, the Knight doesn't immediately notice my rapid approach, and even when piercing blue eyes shift in my direction, the weight of his blade has turned him too far around for a proper attack.  My gunblade held level in front of me, I lunge at the dark-haired man with the intention to maim, not to kill.  Sensing that, the Knight smirks lightly and opens his stance such that I'll either kill him or have to divert my strike into a far weaker blow.  With a growl at his boldness, I change tactics and pull back my weapon before dropping down in a sweeping move.  The Knight jumps back from my leg, and while still in midair, manages to lift his buster blade with the clear desire to spear the heavy weapon through my vulnerable body.

"Don't think it, numb nuts!"

The Knight barely has the opportunity to look up before Cid drops down from a ridiculous height, his weapon at the ready.  The pilot attacks with an engineer's precision, his long spear striking the Knight's hands and efficiently disarming the man before he crashes to the ground.  Cid, meanwhile, lands on his feet much like the tomcat he is, and bounces back a pace when the Knight tries to grab him.

Not waiting for another opportunity that may never come, I push up from my crouched position and sprint toward the gates bent by Ultimecia's magic.  As the first to notice my approach, Seifer grabs one of Aerith's hands and pulls her through the open gates, the teen fast on his feet when he wants to be.  I make it within a few paces of the gates when I hear Cid's pained grunt.  My first instinct is to turn and help the old pilot, but there are other skilled fighters around to lend a hand; meanwhile, I have the task to remove a sorceress from this universe.  I barely hear the quiet drum of feet against dirt when Cloud rushes behind me, but the harsh clang of metal against metal motivates me to increase my pace.

"You aren't going anywhere," Cloud states lowly in what would seem like a threat to anyone else, but I can hear the promise beneath the rough tone.

Seifer glances back at me and stumbles over his own foot in the stupid act, but Aerith keeps him upright and urges him forward before I can use a harsher method for the same purpose.  Apparently appeased at finding me alive, Seifer speeds ahead and leads us toward a common area lined with shops and surprisingly tall buildings for a small town.  Despite the urgency of the situation, Seifer slows down and carefully spins around, his green eyes narrowing with suppressed fear.

"Where is everyone?" Aeirth asks, probably speaking the words already going through Seifer's head.

As if in response to her question, the whispers of a moving shadow reach my ears.  I turn sharply with Lion Heart held in front of me, but I'm forced back a step when I recognize the dark lumbering mass that has no real form.  Freeing my left hand, I call upon Holy magic and release the spell upon the decayed form of a Blobra.  A strange squeal sounds from the monster when white flames cover its body, but it doesn't retreat from the attack.  Instead, it surprisingly lashes out with an oozing form of a punch, a strike that I easily dodge, but the toxic hisses from the soiled ground are mildly distressing.  Before I have the chance to counterattack, intense heat brushes past my body, leaving me untouched as I wasn't the intended target of the spell.  Bright red flames ignite and then completely cover the Blobra, and though the monster initially flails with the attempt to disperse the flames, it quickly falls apart like heated wax and its toxic body dissolves a small pit into the ground.

" _Damn it_."

At the harsh whisper, I glance back over my shoulder at Seifer and casually notice his fisted hand covered in thin smoke.  While I first think the teen had managed to hurt himself, his face doesn't reflect any physical pain.  Only emotional.

"Are you okay?" Aerith asks, a question that is rather pointless in this situation.

Ignoring the motherly woman, Seifer tightens his smoldering fist and glares in my direction.  His gaze is accusatory, as if I had a certain degree of blame in this situation for being right about Ultimecia's methods.  While it's an understandable reaction, it doesn't make the weight of those young eyes easier to bear.

"If we get rid of the bitch, then the monsters go, right?"

Surprised by the question that is free of blame, I hesitate before replying, "They should."

Seifer props his gunblade against a shoulder before jerking his chin in the direction of an archway.  "The fastest way to my house is to use the rooftops.  There are some boxes beyond the Sandlot that we can use."

Aerith suggests optimistically, "Ultimecia may not be there."

"She is or she will be," Seifer argues bitterly.  "She doesn't look like the monster she is, and no one here really thinks to doubt people.  This isn't a place where people get hurt, so nobody thinks about what _might_ hurt them.  Shit, they'll probably walk the bitch directly to my front door and not think twice about it."

"Then we should hurry," I say to encourage more action and less talk, especially when Aerith seems concerned about the teen's disdainful viewpoint of his hometown.  She was never someone who could appreciate the harsh truth when kinder words could be used instead.

Seifer doesn't wait for a second suggestion that time is wasting.  Leading the way, the blond sprints in the direction of the Sandlot, a name I didn't particularly recognize, but the location has a special place in my memory.  It's difficult to accept the reality that I was here only months ago, and not the lifetime it seems when it comes to Seifer and his knack of finding the cracks in my heart.  When I saw him in the so-called 'Struggle Battle' and wielding a foam bat, I thought it was pointless to become involved in his life, a life that seemed so different from what I knew.  But Seifer doesn't let little things like logic and practicality get in his way.

We cross the Sandlot in decent time, the appearance of another Blobra and a few irritating bugs briefly slowing us down before we reach the archway that leads deeper into the town.  Despite the random attacks of half-dead monsters, Seifer doesn't hesitate with his steps, not even around blind corners or into a shadowed alleyway.  I can already feel a small headache behind my eyes caused by the conflicting emotions of pride and frustration associated to his bold actions.

As such, it's a surprise when Seifer nearly trips over his feet after rounding a corner and I mentally prepare myself for a dragon or T-rexaus attack.  But before I catch up to the blond youth, Seifer growls and launches forward in an abnormally aggressive move.  When I chase after him, the reason for his rage becomes painfully obvious - a teenage brute stands side-by-side with a white-haired girl, the twosome surrounded by five bugs that struggle to remain in the air with rotted wings.

 _"Rai, Fuu!_ _I'm coming!_ "

The duo looks up at the same time, but instead of the expected excitement at seeing their leader, Fuujin and Raijin seem oddly stunned by his appearance.  A Bite Bug decides to strike at that moment, but its shaky flight makes it too slow compared to Seifer's long sprint and forceful jump.  Helios glints with reddish light before slicing down through one bug, and continuing its flow, the blade then curves upward to knock another bug into the nearest wall.  As if his action was a signal, Raijin smiles and throws a heavy punch at the bug closest to him.  Fuujin, without much expression beyond sparkling red eyes, directs a mean side kick at a low flying bug, launching it through the air such that Raijin is forced to duck or be hit.  The fifth and final bug is devoured by a fire spell, its decayed body dropping to the ground into a smoldering heap.

Seifer barely has a chance to flash a victory smirk before he's engulfed by large arms and nearly knocked to the ground.  Steadying himself after a couple steps, Seifer smiles gently at the brutish friend hugging him and pats an arm in consolation.  "Hey now, big guy, I know that I've been gone for awhile, but really..."

"Gone fer awhile?" Raijin repeats back with a harsh laugh.  "Man, we thought you were _dead_."

Seifer pushes back from his friend and glances between him and the white-haired girl.  "Dead?  What the fuck gave you that idea?"

"Woman in blue," Fuujin offers.

"Yeah, some lady jus' came through here and told us that you got yerself killed.  She was lookin' fer your family to give them the news, y'know."  Dark eyes then narrow and Raijin glares in my direction.  "She said that _he_ was the one to take yer life, too."

Seifer immediately steps between me and his friend.  "Leon would never hurt me."

His face screwing into a befuddled expression, Raijin reminds his friend, "Wasn't he the guy who tried to strangle ya?  And somehow made those ice spears appear and aimed for yer throat?"

Though I can feel Aerith's alarmed stare focused on my back, Seifer boldly argues, "That wasn't what it seemed."

"Well, y'know, it 'seemed' to us that he didn't like you breathing.  Me and Fuu think that there's something _wrong_ with that guy.  I mean, he did that stuff to you, and then he took you away--"

"You've got it wrong, you numbskull, but there isn't time to explain everything to you guys.  That woman you met is royally fucked in the head and I have to stop her before..."  Seifer doesn't complete the sentence.  He doesn't need to.

Raijin seems perfectly ready to continue his argument, but Fuujin throws an unforgiving punch against his arm.  Her partner efficiently silenced, the white-haired girl walks in front of Seifer and lightly grasps the Griever pendant displayed at his chest.  "Not yours."

The arrogant blond smiles and glances back at me.  "I want him to be."

Noticing the suggestive look, Fuujin directs her gaze of harsh crimson in my direction and stares for a long moment before scoffing.  "Never easy."  She then releases the necklace and steps back a pace.  "Go now.  Explain later."

Even as Raijin tries to complain about the change in attitude, Seifer sweeps the petite girl into a strong, one-armed hug and gives her a fleeting kiss against her forehead in thanks.  Seifer mentions something to his posse about watching their backs, and then abruptly runs off in the same path as before.  The move forces Aerith and me to follow him without question or be left behind once he jumps up a stack of conveniently placed boxes that grants him access to the rooftops.

Running across building to building, it becomes obvious why Seifer chose this route as the way to his home.  While it does appear faster than navigating around the twists and turns of the city, the rooftops are clearly Seifer's domain.  He knows the best method forward and never hesitates whether jumping a wide gap between buildings or running along a narrow ledge.  A piece of me feels revived at witnessing the teen in his element and acting without reserve, something I haven't truly seen from Seifer in the last several months.

After a good half-mile and an additional attack by some more Bite Bugs, Seifer simply steps off the ledge of a building, my heart stopping in the second it takes for boots to thump against unseen boxes.  I barely hear Aerith's scolding sigh before she follows after the young blond, leaving me to scan the rooftops for potential monsters trailing us.  When the coast appears to be clear, I follow after the pair who had stopped in the middle of the street.

While Aerith rests a consoling hand at Seifer's shoulder, the blond teen stares across the street at the string of houses that were built side-by-side and without an inch of space between the walls of lightly colored brick.  The collection of structures gives an oddly city-like feel, as if they were meant for function, which directly opposes the aesthetics and personality that smaller cities typically prefer.  It's no wonder that Seifer favors the freedom of the rooftops over the closed off city streets.

As I approach the silent pair, I recognize the focus of Seifer's stare - a solid wooden door left open no more than the width of a fist.  But by the intent gaze of dark jade, the door had might as well been on fire for the alarm it caused him.

"It's always closed," Seifer says in a hoarse voice.  "Duchess, Quisty's cat... The last time she got out, she ended up with three kittens..."

"All the reason to end this sooner," I say lightly, wishing that I could be as open as Aerith with her support, but this is neither the time nor place.

Seifer glances at me, his initial confusion fading to a light smile of appreciation when he realizes that I'm not mocking him for his worry about a cat when we're moments away from facing Ultimecia.  He rests a hand on top of his Griever pendant before nodding in readiness.  "Let's do this."

Though its Seifer's home we're entering, I move ahead of the blond youth and take advantage of the open door.  I have no pretense of slipping into the house without being noticed, a sentiment apparently shared by Aerith as she makes certain to close the door behind her despite the sound it creates.  The house is larger on the inside than it appeared from the street, but is otherwise painfully normal for a family with two parents and two kids.  Framed photos line the walls of the entry hallway, a typical assortment that reveals the entire family at play, as well as in formal wear.  With only a brief glance, I notice how Seifer never faces the camera directly, always looking elsewhere with the gaze of a constant dreamer.

From the hallway into a wide open space, I take in the sight of the large family room joined with an upgraded kitchen.  On the large couch at the far end of the room, a woman with long golden hair and crystalline eyes sits with her arms wrapped around a small girl who bears the aristocratic features only Quistis could achieve at such a young age.  Seated next to the woman and child is an older man with dark brown hair in disarray and his flesh bearing scorch marks of electricity.  Despite his injuries, the man sits with strict posture and braces an arm around his wife's shoulders, the only sign of his discomfort apparent in the tenseness of his bloodied lips.

Altogether, the situation is fairly surprising as I had assumed the family would have easily fallen under Ultimecia's alluring power.  To witness that they had seen through her falsehoods and resisted the sorceress to their limited abilities... It's good to know Seifer was raised by such a family.

"That didn't take long," a melodious voice comments with undertones of bitter disappointment.  "And to think, I was certain that I had finally located a worthwhile Knight.  How bothersome."

I shift my gaze to the dark-haired woman perched on the counter that divides the kitchen from the rest of the expansive room.  For whatever reason, the casual pose is a strong reminder of Rinoa, especially compared to her constant playacting, but it doesn't dampen my need to end this here and now.  I sacrificed the innocent woman once before and I'm more than prepared to do so again.

"S... Seifer...?"  The questioning call from across the room is filled with disbelief and hope, making it apparent that the family had heard the same story of Seifer's death.

"It's alright, Mom," Seifer assures from behind me, his voice surprisingly calm and controlled.  "We'll handle this, so just stay there."

Ultimecia laughs with exaggerated amusement.  "What a man you have become!  And to think, you are the same child who fled from my shadow and cried in your corruptor's arms."

"I'm not running now," Seifer declares lowly and adjusts his hold on Helios with a creak of leather.

"No, my lost Knight, I won't _let_ you run."

Ultimecia floats gracefully from her perch with an unnecessary display of power, while at the same time avoiding the use of her hands against hard stone.  What a proud woman to think that her weakness had yet to be revealed to her enemies.  Even if I didn't know of her burns, it is simple enough to recognize the new areas of dark veins marring the pale flesh of her neck and left shoulder.  Her power is poisoning her with every spell, but she won't dare admit such a defeat.

The air shifts subtly, a sign of teleportation magic and the end of any further discussion.  In response to looming threat, powerful magic wraps around my body and I shiver at the protective barriers Aerith had placed over the group.  Unfortunately, Aerith isn't allowed to take a strong position in this battle, the woman given a far more important task - to find an opening, no matter how small.  Despite that knowledge, I have to fight against my greater reason before I move sidewise, allowing Seifer the room necessary to use his blade... allowing Ultimecia a free opening at the teen.

A dark portal appears in front of the sorceress, obscuring her in the moment a cumbersome object inches out.  Metal groans and joints squeal as the large robot shakily appears, the once golden and deadly Trauma transformed into a corroded memory of rusted armor and frayed wires.  Its single, intact shoulder-piece carves into the ceiling of the house and causes bits of drywall to flutter to the ground.  Once a vision of the future, Trauma is now a reflection of the past and a poor one at that.

It's hard not to smile when I realize that Ultimecia doesn't know how I've already taken apart this particular toy of hers.

Despite the threat of the mechanical monster, I lower my gunblade and spend the precious seconds necessary to remember a simple spell, a spell not of this universe - Meltdown.  It hurts to use it, just like it hurts to use any magic from my past, but no spell has yet to refuse me.  Trauma shudders at the heated magic and actually inches backward as if comprehending its fate, but the metal beast is programmed to fight and nothing more.  Long arms move with painful slowness to produce one of its drone, but before old wires can produce enough power, clean metal flashes in the erratic electric light and Helios cuts deeply into the rusted armor.  Seifer jumps back when circuits explode at the assault, but the cocky teen promptly positions his gunblade in readiness for another attack.

Not about to be left behind, I sprint up close to Trauma and use its damaged arm as a jumping point to strike my blade against its chest, arms, and shoulder, until I eventually reach its tiny head.  Lion Heart pierces easily through the rusted metal, and as eyes of flickering red light stare back at me, I pull the trigger to release a charge of Holy magic into the weapon.  In the past, this would have ended with a near firework display of explosions, but the robot is only a memory of Trauma and too corroded for anything more than a few pops of electricity and a whine of complaint as it powers down.

I jump away when Trauma begins to collapse, but unfortunately, the large body tilts back and crashes through the defenseless wall of the living room, leaving a shower of drywall and splinters of wood.  Shielding his face with a bent arm, Seifer eyes the destroyed section of his house, but says nothing out of anger or frustration.  By the shadow darkening his face, he seems resigned to the fact that his home is disposable in this battle.

Somehow dodging the collapse, Ultimecia stands next to the fallen weapon, her golden gaze filled with disbelief and betrayal.  "Impossible... im _possible_..."

Movement flickers at the corner of my eye, a flash of pink that prompts me to play Ultimecia's game.  "Don't you understand, sorceress - _I have already won this_.  I have defeated all of your guardians.  I have defeated _you_.  There is no other ending to this fight between us."

Ultimecia turns her attention to me, her eyes bright with uncontrolled magic.  She raises a hand covered in blue electricity, and with a flick of her wrist, lightning crashes down from the ceiling.  Seifer bites out a curse at the attack, but this isn't the first time he has been harmed by magic.  Even so, my teeth grind together in response to more than my own pain, and once the paralyzing electricity passes, I launch forward at the sorceress.  Lion Heart screeches at the first contact against Ultimecia's shields, but the faithful blade doesn't surrender under the pressure of intense magic.  The result is basically the same for the next three strikes, but with each blow layering over the previous one, I noticed the different tone to the impact of the fourth strike.  Smirking, I sway back the distance necessary to flatten my blade and spear it forward to shatter the dome of magic, the sudden burst knocking me back several feet.

Ultimecia screams in frustration and black energy courses down along the length of her arm, but before launching that attack at me, an unfortunate clatter of metal sounds from the side.  Ultimecia whips her gaze in that direction, and though Aerith leaps from her position with the stone relic in hand, the sorceress reacts without hesitation to release black fire at the attacking woman.  The flames don't pierce Aerith's shields, but the strength of the magic throws Aerith into the kitchen area to crash against unforgiving cabinets.

Aerith whimpers before going limp, a distressing outcome given her brave attack, and yet my first thought is that the relic is no longer in her hand or anywhere else in sight.

Distracted by that moment of lost hope, I almost don't react in time to block the spear of midnight blue ice aimed for my throat.  Even so, I'm driven backward by the shear force of the icicle against my flattened blade, forcing me to maintain my balance before the spear shatters apart.  Eyeing the broken shards, I try to ignore the way my scarred shoulder itches at memories of a battle that had never happened.

Ultimecia laughs with a hint of insanity to the joyous sound.  "That was it?  That was your glorious plan to be rid of me?  A girl without a real weapon?"

Except for steadying my blade, I don't bother replying to the taunt.  Seifer's deep growl is response enough.

"Very well, since you showed me your trick, then I should show you mine," the raven-haired woman states with a sharp smile.  She lifts her hand and shows the small globe of sickly yellow-green light that can only be one possible spell, and with her smile broadening, she turns to face the vulnerable family huddled together at the other end of the room.

With no other option available, I run to place myself between Ultimecia and Seifer's family, only then recognizing the trap she had laid for me.  To block the Ultima spell would mean redirecting some of it forward, either at Seifer or the unconscious Aerith.  To dodge the spell is out of the question, especially when my new position allows me to hear the rapid whispers of a prayer from Seifer's mother.  And yet, as I lock gazes with the sorceress, I feel oddly calm at accepting the outcome that we both know is coming.  The Ultima spell grows into a vicious sphere of energy that serves no purpose beyond pain and destruction, and before Seifer manages to cry out my name, I lower Lion Heart and ready myself for the ball of vengeful magic targeted for my life.

There is nothing but pain and golden-green light for too long, an eternity packed into seconds and my twisted mind decides to provide me with images of a laughing Seifer as he pulls the switch that drives electricity through my body and burns my flesh.  For the first time in years, my chest aches with the need to cry, but the tears would only evaporate if I made the attempt.  But then, just as the light begins to recede, I hear Seifer's scream of anger and my vision of the past shatters apart into darkness... blissfully numb darkness that I'm not allowed to enjoy for long enough.

"... ster....  _Mister_."

The pain returns when someone taps my head and I choke on the cry that wants to form.  Even though I want nothing more than to hide from the world, I force my eyelids open to little more than painful slits and view upon my tormenter to find the younger version of Quistis squatting in front of me.  Confused at the new angle, I waste a moment to understand my situation before I realize that the Ultima spell had knocked me off my feet, not to mention across the room.  Lying on my stomach and facing the couch, I can't find the willpower to move just yet, but I can clearly hear the fight behind me.  Seifer's aggressive attacks dominate most of those sounds, but there is also the gentle voice that manipulates complex magic and I exhale a relieved breath at the thought that Aerith is all right and helping Seifer.

"Mister, aren't you going to help my brother?"  A frightened whisper of 'Quistis, get back over here' sounds from her mother, but the small girl doesn't move or even flinch while staring down at me, her pale eyes holding the same demanding presence as when she first obtained the rank of instructor.  "Is that lady going to kill him?"

"... no..." I breathe, wishing that I could better back up the sentiment with some action.

The girl's fine eyebrows furrow in worry, but she still reaches behind her.  "The other lady dropped this when she was hurt.  Do you need this to stop the evil lady and save my brother?"

I stare at the revealed relic and fight against the odd urge to laugh.  The key to ending everything is right here, perfectly within reach... and I shouldn't touch it.  I know that logically and it was the basis of my decision to have Aerith handle the relic instead of Seifer or myself, but there simply isn't enough time to create new plans.  Placing a hand against my forehead, I cast a medium level cure spell that will remove the effects of the Ultima spell, but not waste my energy like the higher level spells.  My body heals instantly, but it still takes effort to encourage my sore and exhausted muscles to function.  I carefully push up from the ground, but don't move higher than resting on a bent knee.

"Seifer said that you were a bright girl," I say softly, earning an embarrassed smile from Quistis.  "When this ends, tell him... that I'm sorry."

Quistis frowns, but is too young to understand the gravity of my request and nods innocently.

I reach forward to take the relic, my hand flexing in fear of the inevitable pain, but as the fight behind me continues with a battle cry that belongs to Vidar, a calm resolve overtakes me.  Idiot, I told Seifer to not summon the GF under any circumstance, but I should have know better.  If anything, the act only serves to remind me that this decision to touch the relic is a special kind of stupidity that is usually reserved for Seifer and his reckless way of reacting without thought.  Meanwhile, I struggle over every option when there is no other choice beyond the obvious.  With a smile at the thought and my hand steady, I grab the relic and turn around before the symbols gain the purplish light of dark magic.

I sprint toward Ultimecia, each step bringing about a new form of pain as the relic gains strength and tries to reach for my soul.  Ironically, the previous Ultima spell had numbed my body to the point that relic's powers don't inhibit my stride as I rush at the sorceress.  Even so, I can feel the relic tearing something from me, something that is an important piece of my existence and I know that Griever is the first to be sacrificed to the soul-stealing magic.  It's a sobering thought and I whisper my thanks to the loyal beast for giving me extra time.

Ultimecia notices me while in mid-cast of a spell, and with a glint of shock to her golden gaze, she changes the focus of the magic in a panicked attempt to stop me.  My lips twist into a harsh smile as 'Hell's Judgment' wraps around me and steals most of my energy, but it's ultimately a worthless spell against my body when my soul is about to be stolen away.

I cross the last several meters in seconds before tackling Ultimecia with my arms around her body and the relic pressed against her back.  Purple light flares at the relic's first taste of the powerful soul and Ultimecia screams when recognizing her fate... a fate we share.  I barely notice the clawing of long fingernails at my neck and the teeth at my shoulder.  Instead, I turn my head to find Seifer, the teen yelling without a voice as Vidar holds him in place with a large hand braced at a shoulder.  Hyne, it's only been a couple of days and Seifer already can remaining standing after summoning the powerful GF, basically proving that Seifer's stubbornness ranks as one of the more formidable forces in this universe.  Unfortunately, my vision begins to blur with painfully white light, but I'm satisfied with that last image in life.

" _Don't you dare!"_

At the sudden cry spoken in Rinoa's voice, I'm shoved back and onto the ground, something that is surprisingly easy given Ultimecia's previous struggles to be rid of me.  I almost panic in that moment with the thought that she had broken free, but while sitting up, my eyes focus and lock onto the disturbing image of my body lying on the ground, side-by-side with the collapsed sorceress.  To confirm my worrisome suspicions, I lift my arm and stare through my once solid flesh at the hardwood floor beneath me.  ...Well, at least this is something new compared to waking up in a body that isn't mine.

"I'm disappointed in you, Squall Leonhart."

Startled, I look up and stare at the not-completely-solid vision of a raven-haired woman wearing in a simple white dress made of fine silk, the same outfit Rinoa wore the first time we met at the SeeD ball.  I reflectively frown at Ultimecia continuing to play games even when she has clearly lost, but then I take in the sight of dark doe eyes that don't hold a fleck of gold in the fathomless depths.

"... Rinoa...?"

She smiles in her way and lifts her hand with a single raised finger, another memory of the past.

"Oh Hyne, Rinoa..."  And what could I say?  That I didn't think her soul survived all of these years?  That I won't say I'm sorry for condemning her to the fate that saved a world?  That I'll never regret stealing Seifer from her and keeping him as my own?

The lovely woman sighs, but doesn't lose her smile.  "I know what you're thinking, Squall, but you're wrong.  When Ultimecia and I joined, I saw everything - her horrible plans, her hatred for you, and even some of the past she remembered.  You stopped her in the only way you knew how."

I shake my head, unable to explain that I had betrayed her and made her into nothing more than a tool.

"You poor thing, you have such a beautiful heart," Rinoa says as she leans down and brushes her lips against my forehead.  "It's no wonder Seifer can't stop thinking about you."

"... You know?"

"From the beginning.  Seifer would say things in his sleep when we were together, and you were always the topic."

I gaze up into dark eyes, wishing to ask more, but purple light flares behind her and I can feel the relic's desire to draw me into its body.  Tendrils of magic wrap around Rinoa's small frame and several more reach out for me, but those are promptly kicked aside by the woman's high heels.

"Damn, I was hoping for more time," Rinoa murmurs bitterly before returning her attention in my direction.  "I need you to listen to me, Squall.  Everything is as it should be.  I have always wanted to help people, but I never understood the greater evils that exist out there.  Ultimecia is definitely one of those evils and I'm proud to be the one who will protect everyone from her terrible plans."

Refusing to accept her logic, I push up from the ground and face her directly.  "No, I'm the one who should spend eternity guarding her, not you.  You're innocent in all of this."

"Stupid man," Rinoa says as white light slowly stretches out from her back in the form of unearthly wings.  "In the physical world, you have the strength and power to defeat Ultimecia, but not here.  She would tear you apart before escaping this new cage you made for her."

My hands tighten into useless fists as I struggle with the idea that Rinoa is sacrificing herself when I should be the one to be condemned to that fate, but the rational part of me knows that she is right.  She has the eternal powers of a sorceress while I'm nothing but a soldier without a weapon in this body-less state.  Even so, Rinoa doesn't have to be alone, and when I think to offer that, the woman smiles and shakes her head.

"Don't you get it, Squall?  This isn't your choice.  You've had your revenge against Ultimecia, and now it's my turn."

At the words spoken with vindictive pleasure, I study impossibly dark eyes and discover that Rinoa's soul has aged even when her image is still of the teenaged princess lost in a mercenary's world.  I can't imagine what she has seen or experienced during the years trapped within her own body and at Ultimecia's mercy, but instead of breaking, Rinoa became strong in mind and heart.

The raven-haired beauty sighs when more tendrils of magic appear and slide past her guard.  "Our time is up.  I'm sorry, but you can't stay here.  It shouldn't be hard for you, but try to be quick when returning to your body."

Before I can form a proper thought or question, Rinoa pushes her hands forward and white light bursts from open palms.  Her magic covers me fully in a warm embrace that is nothing like the searing pain of the Ultima spell, and yet the effects are much the same in that time and place become meaningless while I'm lost in the flow of pure energy.  The blinding light is eventually replaced with reddish hues before I manage to take in the shapes of the city around me.  While the exact location isn't familiar, the buildings and colored sky assures me that I'm still in Twilight Town, though far enough away from the relic that I can no longer feel the malicious force reaching for my soul.  But even as I feel a moment's relief at escaping that particular fate, I shiver when a deep chill fills my chest and I wonder if Rinoa's warning to be quick was an understatement.

The first landmark I locate of any familiarity is the brick wall that guards the city, and with no other easy lead, I follow its length for wherever it may guide me.  Moving at a careful jog, I cover maybe a half-mile before the distinct sounds of a sword fight reaches my ears, and after rounding a corner, the bent metal of the entrance gates comes into view.  Though I remember the path to take from this point, the sounds of fighting lure me to the gates and I know that can't leave without checking on the others, even if I can't help them in this body-less state.  I move to the city entrance with a soft step, more from habit instead of necessity given my lacking physical presence, but I don't move further than the bent gates when the scene beyond stuns me into inaction.

Cloud and the Knight are still deep in their exchange of blows, their strikes too fast for a normal human to follow despite the size of their blades.  The blond soldier is the worst off of the pair, blood streaming down the side of his face and a separate wound coloring his right arm in a range of red hues.  Despite the injuries, Cloud doesn't appear hindered and his sapphire eyes glow the brightest I have ever seen them... and are oddly matched by the Knight's luminescent gaze of truer blue.

Watching the master swordsmen fight, I find it strange that, between the two of us, I'm the coldhearted killer who can strike down any opponent, even if that opponent was Seifer.  Meanwhile, although Cloud is physically able to harm his opponent, he has yet to make the Knight bleed for his loyalty to Ultimecia.  Maybe at some point in their shared past, the monster in Cloud has already been tamed by this Knight, and for that reason, refuses to strike back against the obvious threat.  It's yet another inconsistency that bothers me about Cloud and his 'light', and I wonder what the blond soldier has gotten himself into with this battle.

A faint curse draws my attention away from the pair and I find Cid seated against the outside of the wall, his hands grasping tightly at his leg and the bloodied knee that pokes through his torn pants.  More likely than not, the kneecap has been shattered and it'll take time in addition to a series of potions to heal the agonizing injury.  Meanwhile, Yuffie crouches in front of Cid in a protective stance, but the thief isn't much better off with her left arm cradled close to her body and her right hand holding a shuriken in a shaky grasp.

"No..." I whisper, though no one will hear me.  "Damn it, _no_.  Ultimecia is _dead_.  This is _supposed to be **over!**_ "

Abruptly, the Knight throws a hard strike at Cloud and they break apart with the smaller swordsman sliding across dirt and gravel.  And then, in a show of disregard for his opponent, the dark-haired man turns his attention toward the city and his expression shifts into a mask of fearful disbelief.  I follow the direction of his gaze and I easily find the pillar of pale purple light I hadn't noticed before with the city around me.  I shiver at the sight of the relic's magic and wonder if the thing wasn't satisfied with the souls of two sorceresses in its grasp, that it wanted me as well. 

But even as the thought crosses my mind, the light of tainted energy grows paler until perfectly white, and in a soundless explosion, the pillar shatters apart into a shower of magic.

A strange whimper sounds from the Knight and I turn to watch the dark-haired man lower his weapon.  Cloud advances at the seemingly obvious opportunity, the soldier unaware of Ultimecia's final imprisonment within the relic and I'm unable to alert him of that fact.  But instead of raising his buster blade to strike down the Knight, Cloud drops his faithful weapon and reaches the Knight in time to catch the pirate when he sways dangerously on his feet.  Cloud winces when supporting the taller man and helps the Knight to lower to his knees, at which point the man abruptly wraps his arms around Cloud's waist and clutches onto dark clothing like a drowning man.

The scream that sounds is animalistic in nature, raw and unleashed as the Knight copes with the lingering taint of Ultimecia's magic.  Cloud says nothing to soothe that obvious pain, but he eventually places a gloved hand into thick hair and massages with a careful touch that is rather unlike the soldier.  From the sky, glimmering magic from the broken pillar flutters down toward the pair of fighters and an ethereal feather lands on top of the Knight's head to quiet his cries.  He glances up at that point, bleary eyes focusing on Cloud like someone would look at a person he recognized, but couldn't place a name or where they had met.

"I was looking for you," Cloud says quietly, his hand lowering to touch the Knight's face.  "Zack."

His eyes widening, the dark-haired man mouths something in return ('...Cl...oud...'), but his voice doesn't sound in his bewilderment.

Though initially stunned by the act, Cloud breathes a laugh and smiles softly with a boyish curl of lips that makes him seem years younger than his years and experience.

Relieved to see my friends escape this particular fight alive, I'm reminded of my own situation when my vision abruptly blurs of this world, but returns a worrisome second later.  I'm certain that I've wasted too much time watching this battle, especially when I was powerless to help, but I don't regret being able to witness something good rise out from Ultimecia's madness.  Turning my back to the gate, I run deeper into the town and follow the same path Seifer had laid out before, but when I reach the twists and turns of the alleys, I quickly lose my sense of direction.  Apparently I never noticed the multitude of boxes that all give access to the rooftops, and without knowing the right set to use, there's little chance of me figuring out my way back to Seifer's house.

As I debate over which boxes to use, a blatant snort sounds behind me and I turn with my hand automatically going for my gunblade, but grasping at nothing.  A chuckle quickly follows my mistake, but I don't have the luxury to be embarrassed; instead, I stare at the massive beast with the body of a dark-furred lion and bearing an unusual pair of lavender wings that fold tightly against its back.  Its blood-red eyes focus on me with a merciless stare, and that more than anything else makes me feel a sort of familiarity with the creature.

< _There is an easier way._ >

Confused at a beast giving me directions in the middle of a non-magical city, I continue to study the large cat as it stands perfectly still except for a casually swaying tail.  Without really thinking about it, I reach out a hand toward the beast and place my fingers behind a curved ear, a touch the cat allows as its head tilts into the scratch and closes its eyes.  That contact restores a piece of what I thought was lost and I exhale a long, shaky breath.

"Griever..."

The beast purrs lightly in reply.

"Hyne, I assumed... I felt you being taken by the relic."

< _Your sorceress released me from the stone after sending you away._ >  Crimson eyes glimmer with humor when Griever adds, < _She was concerned you would get lost, as you did in the past._ >

"She... remembered that?" I ask warily, referring to the Time Compression and my time spend wandering lifeless earth.

< _No, but my kind does not forget._ >

Just when I consider asking the beast for more information, the world seems to slant against my will and becomes hazy for several seconds longer than the last time.  Damn it, I really don't have time to chat with an overgrown cat who apparently is humored by my constant near-death adventures.

< _Come, your other half waits and he wants you back_. >

"Seifer...?  What do you know about him?"

Baring his teeth in something resembling a smile, Griever replies, < _I know you wasted too many years before finding him again._ >   As I stare dumbly at the GF, the large cat turns around and whips his tail against my chest, prompting me to grab the appendage or be slapped in the face.  < _Hold onto me.  I imagine your other half would set that stone upon me if I lost you now._ >

Griever starts forward without any acknowledgement from me, his long stride jerking me forward for several steps before I match his step.  It must look ridiculous for me to walk behind the lion while grasping onto his tail, but if my vision plays with me anymore than it already has, then I'll be thankful for the unwanted help from the GF.  Surprisingly, Griever steps directly for a nearby wall and leads me through the solid object, an unexpected reminder that I've been torn away from the physical dimension of this world.

As we walk through the empty store and its displays of accessories, I build the courage to ask Griever, "Do you know if he... if Seifer is the same Seifer from my past?

< _Don't you?_ >

While it shouldn't have been a satisfying response, I find myself smiling slightly and thinking about my last vision of the youth, Seifer crying out for me despite his lost voice and Vidar holding him back.  "He'll be angry with me."

< _He always is,_ > Griever comments with a snorting laugh.

I narrow my gaze on the beast's back, curious just how much the demon knows about the past and future, but I eventually decide that it would be best to leave the subject alone.  There are some things that mortals aren't allowed to understand for the safety of their sanity and I have enough worries to concern me without the addition of more abstract notions.  As if summoned by the thought, a deep chill courses through me and I can almost imagine the hand of Death grabbing for my spirit and somehow missing... this time.  I tighten my hold around Griever's swaying tail and pray that I can reach my body in time to prevent the death I once desired, a death that would now be boring without Seifer there waiting for me.

 

{Continued}


	6. Chapter 6

[Seifer]

This isn't how it was supposed to happen.

That's my first thought when Leon bolts from his position beside me and places himself between Ultimecia and my family.  My subsequent thought is that I made him do that.  He swore to do everything within his power to save my family and that is exactly what he is doing.  With Leon alone before her, Ultimecia's smile broadens into something toothy and vicious as the Ultima spell between her hands grows into a large mass of ugly energy.  I try to assure myself that Leon has faced this same spell before and survived to continue standing against the bitch sorceress.  He'll do it again like he did in the Great Maw... But against my expectations, he lowers Lion Heart to his side.

I don't have the chance to yell at Leon or to tell him that he shouldn't do something so stupid.  With my breath stuck in my throat, the golden-green spell bursts from Ultimecia's hands and soars unerringly at the near-defenseless man.  Time abruptly slows to a sluggish pace and gives me a clear view of the Ultima spell connecting with the shields around Leon, the resulting white flash of magic blurring my vision for a panic-filled moment.  It's impossible to know how much of the soul-searing magic leaked through Aerith's barriers, but the sheer force of the spell does its own damage to lift Leon off his feet.

Oddly enough, I don't hear anything when Leon crashes to the ground.  He even slams his head twice against the hardwood floor before sliding the rest of the way to lay unmoving at the feet of my terrified family, but I hear nothing except hallow echoes of the sharper sounds.  I turn stiffly to face Ultimecia and find the sorceress bitch laughing with true delight in her eyes.  The manic sound is distant to my ears as my eyes drift downward to her heaving chest and slight neck, so frail and so vulnerable...

I don't consider my attack before I launch forward, my vision narrowed on the sorceress and her alone.  A terrible scream reaches my ears, the first sound to break through my distorted hearing and only due to my shortened breaths do I recognize the scream as my own.  Ultimecia turns with a casual air that has no place in the middle of a battle, and golden eyes gaze at me with an expectant shine toward my attack.  Despite the apparent trap, I continue forward with Helios lifted in readiness to strike.  Once in range, I pull the heavy gunblade across my body in a hard arc, but Ultimecia dodges the attack with a gliding step backward and an amused smile.  Just as I attempt a second strike, a burst of wind hits me in the chest and drives me back such that Helios, in an unsteady swing, doesn't touch her deceivingly delicate body.

"Poor thing, still just a boy without your Lion," Ultimecia mocks as she lifts a hand, burnt from the Ultima spell, and sapphire frost glimmers over her shoulders.  "A boy without a future, at that."

Two spears of ice solidify above the slender woman, and with little more than a twitch of her fingers, the icicles launch for my body.  Thoughts fly from my mind, which makes it quite the surprise when Helios seems to move by its own power.  Following my arm's lead, my left foot slips back a pace, but not in retreat.  Instead, with the flattened blade held in front of my turned body, the deadly icicles slam against metal and I'm thrown back several feet to fall on my ass, but very much alive and only baring a few cuts from splinters of ice.

It's not until that particular danger has come and passed that I recognize the instinctual defensive stance as the same one Leon had used earlier against the frozen spears.  I choke on a laugh when I realize that Leon was still training me, even with him unconscious or potentially worse across the room.

Ultimecia's expression turns sour with clear disgust at her inability to be rid of me.  Golden eyes darken with deep shadows, and without a scornful word, the sorceress points a spell-burnt hand in my direction.  Dark energy twists and arcs along her arm before black electricity leaves her hand in an oddly beautiful display of chaotic magic.  Mesmerized by that energy, I don't think to move, not that I could scramble fast enough to escape that dark energy anyway.  So I sit and do nothing, watching helplessly when the first whiffs of ozone reach my nose.

A shadow abruptly falls over me and it's strange how that and not the killing magic makes me wince and pull back.  Bright shields compete against the darkness and apparently wins when Ultimecia yells in frustration.  My blurred vision takes a moment longer to clear and I stare up at Aerith standing in front of me.  Her hair disheveled and her right arm limp at her side, Aerith holds her staff in a surprisingly firm position.

"Never give up," Aerith declares in a stern voice that is rare from the kindhearted woman.  "If you... If you truly love him, then you _never_ give up."

Startled by the advice, I automatically grab onto the Griever pendent at my chest and squeeze tightly until the edges dig into my flesh despite the glove barrier.  Stupid.  How could I have been so _stupid_ to almost give the sorceress what she wanted and what Leon had been trying to prevent for the last several months?  How could I let myself fail this quickly at being Leon's Knight?

With a hard punch to the ground, I push up onto my feet and step close to Aerith, but stay behind the shorter woman.  "Are you good to protect me for a moment?"

Aerith immediately frowns, her gaze flicking between me and Ultimecia, the sorceress nursing her injured hand.  "You can't mean... Leon didn't want--"

"Leon is hurt and we can't help him until the bitch is gone."

"... He won't like this when he wakes."

I smirk at the implied acceptance to my vague plan.  After a whispered thanks to the woman, I step back a pace to give her room to do her thing, and with complete confidence in her abilities even when injured, I close my eyes to focus on the alien life within me.  Leon may have convinced Vidar to unjunction with me the other day, but the guardian spirit has been anything except 'dormant'.  Maybe it had something to do with summoning the demon, but I now recognize him as something 'not me'.  It seems so obvious compared to the first time Aerith and Leon found the spirit hiding within my body, and yet since then, I've learned that experience means a lot more than my teenage mind likes to believe.

< _Summon me, barn,_ > Vidar abruptly speaks within my mind, his voice oddly lacking the humor I more associate to the guardian force.  Instead, he feels like a snarling dog on a short leash and I have no desire to hold him back.  < _She harmed what is yours.  Her life is_ mine _._ >

'Don't kill her unless you think you can destroy her spirit, too,' I warn, my voice already lost as the demon grows stronger and more demanding.

< _I cannot know until I try,_ > is the gruff response, and though I find the statement slightly worrisome, I begin to speak the words of summoning that were engraved into my memory by the guardian force.

Much like the single time before, Vidar's appearance steals away my strength such that I collapse to my knees, but the effect is thankfully limited to that.  Regaining my breath, I lift my gaze to stare at the spirit's broad back and the heavy sword held at his side, and all I can think is that I wish it was Leon and the blood-red wings of his jacket in front of me.  Vidar yells out in a forgotten language, his battle cry reverberating through my bones before he charges after the raven-haired sorceress.  Ultimecia doesn't back down at the sight of the intimidating spirit, but promptly adds to her defensive shields before the crude sword can shatter the barriers weakened by Leon's previous attacks.

"Are you all right?"

I glance up at Aerith's overly concerned expression and force a smile.  I can't be 'all right' without knowing Leon's condition, but that isn't the question at hand.  Though exhausted, I don't feel the same faintness as the last time.  More likely than not, touching the relic and summoning a guardian force are two things that shouldn't be done within the same hour.

"So, that's how it is," Aerith whispers as a soft warmth enters her deep green eyes.  "Sorry, I was wrong to think it was something else."

Before I can convey my confusion in some other way than speaking, the energy of the room shifts into something that makes my blood run cold.  Searching for the source of that disturbance, I first look at Ultimecia, but the dark spell she begins to summon seems the same as the energy-stealing one she had used on Strife weeks earlier.  Movement at the corner of my eye attracts my attention and I turn to immediately to stare at Leon's sprinting form and the tendrils of purple light wrapped around his slender body.

Denial clouds my mind as I think that Leon isn't stupid like me.  He'd never touch the relic that would claim his 'loose' soul and seal it away for all eternity.  But even as I think those thoughts, Leon runs headlong for the sorceress, only slightly stumbling when Ultimecia redirects her dark spell for him and reduces his health to almost nothing.  His full lips curl into a harsh smile that makes my chest burn in agony, and with the space between them covered in three quick strides, Leon grabs onto the sorceress and presses the relic against her back.

I'm on my feet before I consider that I shouldn't have the strength for it, but a large hand immediately grasps my shoulder.  I struggle against Vidar's traitorous plan to keep me in place, to keep me from Leon, but his hand is like stone and there is little chance of me going anywhere.  Even so, I yell without a voice for Leon to somehow escape and protect himself from the relic, but the brunet does nothing except to glance at me and smile in his vague fashion.

One moment to the next, both Leon and Ultimecia collapse to the ground, but the relic remains in midair with its dark energy flickering as if angered.  Vidar inches backward with a subtle shift, but he doesn't seem to be the target of the ancient magic.  It's quiet for several seconds, as if we were waiting for the relic's next trick... and it doesn't fail us.  Its dark light retreats for a brief moment, but then bursts upward into an immense pillar of energy that shakes loose some drywall from the hole previously formed by Ultimecia's failure of a robot.

Aerith gasps in awe at the excessive display, and though I agree with her sentiment, something else taunts my awareness with the relic's severe use of magic.  Maybe its rejecting Ultimecia's soul because she was too powerful, or maybe it has gained strength from her energy and is prepared to steal every soul in this unsuspecting city... But no, Leon trusts... trusted... no, damn it, _trusts_ Merlin and the kooky old wizard said that the relic was limited in its ability and could only take souls that weren't strongly attached to a physical form.  Which leaves the question - what the fuck is the relic _doing?_

Before I can begin to guess the intentions of a magical rock, my attention is diverted by the flicker of pale light that contrasts strongly against the deep purple of dark magic.  I stare at the oddly soothing light within disturbing chaos and I swear that it stares back, even _winks_ before spreading up the length of the pillar.  Its infiltration is slow at first, but with every inch gained, the white light doubles its speed until ultimately smothering the darkness in gentle light.  That state doesn't last long, however, when the pillar shatters apart like fragile glass.

I wince when the first 'shards' of magic fall, but the touch of light feels much like the caress of a cure spell, and glancing at my forearms, I watch as electric burns are gradually replaced by healed flesh.  Distracted by the sight, I almost don't notice the flutter of a white feather as it drifts close.  Without considering the potential harm it could cause, I follow baser instincts and lift a hand to snatch the beautiful feather.  Upon first touch, the feather vanishes and I find myself whispering without a voice -

'... _Rinoa?_...'

Startled by that sudden knowledge and apparent memory of the ex-girlfriend Leon never really talked about, I look up into the sky with the hope of locating another feather within the shower of light.  Aerith's questioning voice barely registers beyond my desperate search, but any thought to focus on the woman vanishes when I find a drifting glimmer of magic.  With two quick paces forward, I leap into the air to grab the fluttering feather and hold on tight when vague memories flit through my mind.  There isn't anything solid, nothing like Rinoa's name and presence, but I can see me with Leon, always standing close despite the variety of scenes, from battles in deserts to quiet meals in a small cabin.

 _... A_ _s it was, as it should be_...

I scowl at the thought that is not my own and I can't help feeling cheated by the princess who was still playing at mercenary games.  I wanted a solid memory of Leon and the past he remembers, but it seems that even ghosts don't want me sharing the pains and joys of that other life.  It's a frustrating prospect when I want to better understand the man currently known as 'Leon'... Though I suppose that isn't something I've taken the time to consider - how much does 'Leon' have in common with 'Squall'?

As the light fades from the destroyed pillar, my eyes soon settle on Leon's unmoving form.  My steps are slow as I approach, and I know that I'm waiting with each step for Leon to sit up and glare at me for underestimating him.  It doesn't happen like that, however, and I drop to my knees next to the man who seems so much smaller in this state compared to his usual guarded self.  I try to say his name, but choke on my lacking voice.

Towering behind me, Vidar places his crude sword beneath my chin and warns, < _The Lion held onto hope for years; do not lose yours in seconds_. >  And with those useless words, the demon returns to my body in a rush of energy that makes my head spin, but I manage to hold onto consciousness this time around.

"I thought I taught you better than this."

Before I have the chance to look up, Renaud Trepe kneels down at Leon's other side and places a hand at the pale throat.  Though I know my step-father is an experienced doctor and he's simply searching for a pulse, I have to fight against the ridiculous urge to knock away his hand from what is mine.  After the brief examination, Rey frowns with an expression I haven't seen since the first time we met, conflict clear in his dark eyes as he debates what to tell me.

"You can't help him," I whisper, wishing that it didn't have to be said.

The older man sighs and sits back on his heels before directly meeting my gaze.  "I'm sorry, but there's no pulse, and CPR at this point... But why do I have a feeling that you already knew that?  What is happening here, Seifer?"

I should answer him, especially when an army of Heartless could be waiting just outside the door to attack us all, but my thoughts have already taken a downward spiral.  Tearing my gaze from Leon's peaceful expression, I search the ground to find the only solution to bringing Leon back... or me to Leon.  It doesn't seem to matter much which way it goes.

"It won't work," Aerith scolds as she steps close and forces me to look up at the item in her hold.  Unlike its previous form, the relic has gained a shield of white stone in the shape of folded wings, and even without touching it, I know the thing has been sealed somehow.  Confirming my suspicions, Aerith says, "I know you don't want to hear it, Seifer, but these wings... Leon may have..."

I instantly shake my head, refusing to believe that the dark red wings of his jacket had anything to do with the relic's new barrier.  "That white magic wasn't Leon's; it was Rinoa's and, damn it, she's the one with the wing fetish.  Leon may have been... I don't know, _remembering_ her or something with that jacket of his."

Aerith frowns in clear pity with my denial, but doesn't force me to accept any hard truths.  At least, not for the moment.

"Son..."

I turn at my step-father's voice, but his gaze isn't focused on my face.  Glancing down, I stare at my hand wrapped around Leon's, never noticing when I had done that.  Despite that incriminating sign, I squeeze the limp hand and say ambiguously, "A lot of things have happened while I've been away."

Rey hums deeply at the understatement.  "So it seems."

"He needs a _kiss_."

Startled by the declaration made in a child's voice, I look to the side and find Quistis standing a short distance away, the girl fidgeting against our mother's white-knuckled hold on her small shoulders.  While Mom is far too pale and looks about ready to keel over at any moment, Quistis shows the resilience and naivety of young children who don't really understand the meaning of death.

"In the stories you told me, a really good person can wake up when kissed," Quistis insists, her fine brows scrunching in the need to believe those fairy tales.  "He stopped the evil witch when she tried to hurt you.  He also called me a smart girl and let me help.  Doesn't that make him a really, _really_ good person?"

I shake my head, uncertain how to explain to Quistis that the rules of bedtime stories don't apply in the real world... But then again, the 'real world' also shouldn't include chipmunks that talk and build spaceships, sorceresses who live only for revenge, and fucking rocks that steal the souls of dark-haired beauties.

I glance up at Aerith, and once she figures out my silent question, she frowns in brief thought before admitting, "Stranger things have happened, but they aren't common occurrences, not like the stories would like us to believe.  The chance of Leon escaping..."  Her hand grips tightly around the sealed relic, revealing her true thoughts about my sister's suggestion.

Without her support, I feel a little stupid when looking down at Leon and staring at his slightly parted lips, but it's nothing unusual to feel like an idiot around Leon.  I place my free hand at his cheek and brush aside the dust clinging to his skin, wondering that, if I do this, will it seem more like a 'goodbye' than the awakening I want it to be?

A sharp inhale sounds, recognizable as my mother before she manages to stutter out, "No... No, this... this is _too much_... I _can't_..."

Stunned, I watch my mother hurry off to the back of the house with a complaining Quistis in tow.  The sound of a bedroom door slamming shut makes me wince.

"Don't mind your mother," Rey assures softly.  "She's frightened right now, but she'll understand in time."

"Hn, maybe... but do _you_ understand?"

My step-father smiles slightly, but doesn't answer the question.  "Do what you need to do, son.  Everything else can come later."

Though I can hear the masked skepticism in his voice, I silently thank the man who has never failed to support me, even when I've tried to drive him away time and time again.  After a breath of readiness, I return my attention to Leon and decide that I can't waste anymore time with this.  Either it'll work or it won't, and no one will know the answer until I try.

Leaning over, I first brush my lips at the scar between Leon's eyes, needing to build up my courage before moving downward to his cheek and eventually to the very corner of his lips.  When no hint of a breath comes from brunet, I feel my resolve weaken to the point that I nearly abandon the ridiculous idea, but if nothing else, I need this last taste of the man who changed my life.  My lips fit too easily with Leon's and all of my thoughts go silent as I focus on the man who was supposed to be mine.

As reason would have dictated, Leon doesn't stir for the length of the kiss.  Reluctantly, I pull back to gaze at the dark-haired beauty, but lose my breath when I notice the reddish hue to pale cheeks.  Harsh coughs follow abruptly after and I take warped delight in how Leon curls on his side until facing me and pulling my hand against his chest.  His skin still feels cold, far too cold, but his breaths eventually settle to deep pulls of air and stormy-blue eyes open partway to gaze up at me.

"... _Idiot_... don't think... your kiss had... _anything_ to do... with this..."

They were hardly the words of love I would have liked, but I smile like a fool all the same.  "You came back."

Leon snorts and closes his eyes in well deserved exhaustion.  "Rinoa saved me... Griever brought me back... right when _you_ were... doing something _stupid_..."  Opening one eye in an incriminating gaze, Leon asks, "Who... gave you the idea?"

"Quisty said it was the obvious solution and I couldn't argue," I reply, my voice oddly losing its strength and gaining a shaky undertone.

"Figures," Leon murmurs softly.  He then lifts an arm to my shoulder and pulls me down with unexpected strength until my forehead presses against his chest.  "Sorry... I blame you for leaving me... then I did the same to you... Inexcusable..."

I don't know why I decide then to cry, especially when Leon is _alive_ and ridiculing me like usual, but thick tears blur my vision and quiet sobs make it hard to breathe.  Leon places his gloved hand at my head and strokes my hair with patient tenderness, and I want to yell at him that I'm not the one who nearly died, who _was_ dead, but it seems so meaningless while I cry against his chest.  God, how many more times am I going to prove that I'm a pathetic kid in front of this man?

" _Hyne_ ," Leon breathes and presses a cheek against my hair.  "It's over... It's over and you're _here.._."

Startled by the declaration, I push up until sitting and stare down at Leon with every intention to question his meaning, but the master gunblader had gone limp again, this time in exhausted sleep as his chest slowly rises and falls under my hand.  I have to admit it - the man is damned good at avoiding my questions.

"I should check on the others," Aerith states in a hoarse voice, unashamed of the tears she wipes from her cheeks.

"You're hurt," my step-father comments, but distantly as he copes with witnessing a dead man come back to life.

Cradling her arm close, Aerith smiles softly.  "Thank you, but it can wait."

"I know a dislocated shoulder when I see one," Rey insists, regaining some of his wits.

When Aerith looks curiously at the older man, I explain, "He's a doctor and a good one.  He should be able to fix whatever your cure spells don't help."

"My, how fortunate.  It seems the good spirits have truly watched over our souls today," Aerith says before turning and walking toward the house entrance, her arm still braced against her body.

"Wait--"

I stop my step-father before he can chase after her and into God knows what situation beyond these walls.  "She'll be back.  Aerith's the type to make certain everyone can be helped before she'll worry about herself.  Heck, all of them are like that, really."

"All of them..." Rey mutters in disbelief.  "What exactly have you gotten yourself into these last few months, son?"

I smirk lightly at the simple question that will take hours to properly answer, but I owe my family that small amount of decency, especially when I had left this home with little more than a note to them and my thoughts focused on the mysterious man who had saved my life.  Glancing down at Leon and my hand still trapped in his, my smile broadens and I decide to give a short version of the far longer answer that will be coming -

"I found the world I belong to."

* * *

Seated on a plastic chair, I lean forward to lay my arms and head on the narrow clinic bed occupied by Leon, the man still unconscious after a day of rest.  I think I fell asleep at some point last night, but everything since our arrival in Twilight Town has become a messy blur of memories.  While I continue to flashback to the moment when Leon collapsed after losing his soul, many other things have happened to fill my thoughts - a lengthy talk with my step-father about other worlds and other lives, a discussion my mother wasn't prepared to handle; the discovery that the others of our group were badly injured, but alive after facing Ultimecia's unwilling Knight; and the rest of the day spent helping to gather the victims of Heartless attacks and bringing them to the city's hospital.  To keep the 'aliens' separate from the rest of the injured, Rey offered his private clinic as a place for healing and undisturbed rest for our small group.  He seemed to question that decision after treating Cid and his foul mouth, but Aerith and Yuffie's honest appreciation quickly made up for the pilot's poor temper.

Lying like this, I think about the last time I spent a night mostly awake and positioned at the foot of Leon's bed.  It's strange to gaze at the same face, the same pale skin, the same dark lashes, and yet they seem so different compared to that short time ago.  Back then, I was too focused on myself and the questions I had with being... broken, in a way.  Anymore, I don't care about those minor details, and finally, I can see Leon despite his shields and despite myself.

Leon groans softly in sleep, the first sound in hours, and I notice the twitching fingers of his hand, an inviting sign for my hopeful imagination.  I reach out and place my hand around his, surprised when rough fingers immediately curl in a firm grasp.  God, I hate to admit it, but Strife may have been right about the allure of Leon's fingers.

The click of a doorknob serves as the only warning when, like a summoned demon, Strife steps inside.  His luminescent eyes scan the room in a soldier's habit to look for danger and he eventually settles on my hand braced within Leon's.  His smug smile makes me consider throwing something at him, even if it wouldn't do the enhanced fighter any harm.

"What's wrong with you people?" I demand in a near growl.  "You just open doors and walk inside like there's nothing wrong with it.  Didn't anybody teach you how to knock?"

"You're angry," Strife comments lightly.  "I take it that Leon hasn't woken up yet."

"Just like the last three times you checked in," I remind bitterly, and then I'm forced to stifle a sudden yawn.  "What are you doing here, anyway?  Don't you have your 'light' to fawn over?  Assuming he's the right guy, of course."

Strife's humor evaporates to an icy front, his gaze harsh and incriminating.

"Surprised?  Well, how's that for a change in pace," I mutter while rubbing my eyes.  "For your information, me knowing about you and that Knight is nothing special - I would pretend to sleep sometimes and listen to you and Leon talk.  It's kind of funny, actually, since Leon always wanted to toss a Sleep spell my way and you said he was just being paranoid.  It's obvious that he knows me better than you thought."

The soldier continues to glare at me, but it's nothing new after Leon's stares.

"So, why aren't you with that guy?  You're so fixated on sex that I thought you two would be doing it like rabbits by now."

Strife scoffs, his gaze abruptly looking toward the other end of the room.  "It's not like that."

" _Not_ like _that?_ " I repeat incredulously.  "You do realize that I got the full account from Yuffie, and according to her, you did everything in your power to keep that Knight busy without so much as _scratching_ him.  All of his injuries were from either Cid or Yuffie; meanwhile, you took everything he threw at you."

Ignoring my argument, Strife continues to look elsewhere when he says, "You don't understand.  We never were... anything."

"It sure didn't seem that way to me."

Sapphire eyes flare with suppressed emotions, but Strife quickly covers that slip with an unimpressed frown.  "You're a kid--"

"Yeah, yeah, as if I hadn't heard that one before," I interrupt in mid-yawn.  God, I'm so fucking tired, but it's hard to think of sleep when there's the chance that I could wake and discover that Leon surviving is only a dream.  "But don't forget, I'm the one who has already gone through what that Knight is dealing with right now."

"It's not the same," Strife insists.  "You were Leon's _husband_."

"We aren't talking about me and Leon.  If you remember, I spent, what, ten minutes with you and that guy when my step-father kicked me out to examine Leon.  In that short time, I could tell that he _looks_ at you, while you do everything _but_ look at him.  He wants to figure you out, just like I needed to figure out Leon at the beginning, and by the look of him, that Knight is more than willing to accept the challenge."

Strife grinds his teeth, apparently determined to fight this matter.  "It wasn't me... Zack is with Aerith, talking and laughing like in the past... _They were_..."  He pressed a gloved hand to his face, effectively stopping himself from completing the thought.

Before I can respond to the idiotic argument, Leon shifts subtly such that he pulls my hand closer to his body.  Glancing down at his face, I can't stop my smile at the inconsequential movement from the resting man, and in that moment, I feel calm with the knowledge that this is why I fought so hard.  This is what my romantic dreams were all about.

"Listen, Strife, I don't give a shit what you end up doing, but consider this: Leon started off not telling me anything and I had to figure out for myself if he was trustworthy or not.  There were a couple times when I wasn't certain why I wanted to believe in him, but once I knew about that other life, things started to make sense."  Shifting my gaze back to the blond soldier, I advise him, "Tell that Knight what you remember.  If you don't and he decides that he doesn't like what he's feeling for you, I don't think you'll be able to handle the outcome."

His unnatural eyes studying me intently, Strife eventually smirks when asking, "I thought you weren't in love with him."

I snort at his change in subjects, but I'm too tired to fight it.  "Before all this, I thought I understood what love was.  Now... I'm not too certain what it'll mean to continue staying with Leon."

"You don't want it?"

Glancing at Leon and his closed eyes, I hesitate before asking, "Can you keep a secret?  Especially from Leon?"

Strife straightens at the request, and though he silently debates his other loyalties, he offers a slight nod.

"I... almost did something stupid.  When everything was over and Leon was dead on the ground, my first instinct was to find that relic and hold onto it until I could be with him again."

The soldier stares with disbelief at the information.  "You didn't..."

"Aerith stopped me.  I don't know what she thinks I was planning, but it didn't matter in the end.  You saw the relic - it's sealed up tight."

Strife watches me for a moment longer before huffing something that sounds almost like a laugh.

Not expecting that type of reaction, I scowl at the blond.  "Something funny about that?"

With a shake of his head, Strife steps to the other side of the narrow bed and reaches inside a pocket hidden behind his strange jacket.  "You've had a long night, kid, and I know that you aren't going to listen to anyone who tells you to get some sleep," he says while handing me a small red vial with maybe a few ounces of dark liquid inside.  "It's a revitalizing potion.  It'll help you to stay awake while you're waiting for Leon."

"Seriously?"  When Strife nods, I readily accept the potion.  "Shit, thanks.  Aerith and Yuffie keep nagging me to use a bed somewhere else and I just... I don't want to leave."

"I figured as much," Strife says with a slight smile, and then turns for the exit.  "Don't let it get to you, kid.  I doubt Leon will keep you waiting much longer, especially when you seem to get into trouble whenever he leaves you alone."

"Ha, ha, very funny," I mutter around the lip of the small vial, the contents of which swallowed in one gulp just as Strife slips through the door and closes it behind him.  The potion tastes like pure alcohol and it burns the back of my throat, but I manage to keep it down despite the argument from my stomach.  Unlike most potions, I don't feel any immediate difference with its consumption, but that's my own fault for not asking Strife about how this particular potion tends to work.

Yawning widely, I go back to my previous position of resting on the bed with my head braced by a bent arm.  Unlike the swirling thoughts of before, I simply watch the dark-haired beauty and think about the little things I never really noticed about the man, such as the scarred skin at the base of his neck caused by years of the silver chain moving against pale flesh.  There's also that earring of his which is usually hidden by longish hair, an odd accessory for a man who seems too uptight for something like a piercing.

But ultimately, the deep line between his eyes takes over my full attention and I think about the only explanation I've been given about the scar, that it was earned during a sparring session.  While I don't think Leon was lying to me, it's hard to believe that his scar has such a simple story when it mirrors my scar in every other way.  I have to believe that there is more to his story than he wants to tell.

As that thought crosses my mind, Leon shifts beneath the bed sheets and his eyelids crack open to reveal slivers of blue-gray.  I can't say anything for a startled moment, surprised by how simply the brunet had gone from asleep to awake after hours of nothing.

"Seifer...?" Leon says in a breath, his stormy eyes drowsily focused on me.

"Ah, yeah... Morning... or maybe that should be 'Afternoon'," I amend after a quick glance at a nearby clock.

He frowns at the difference.  "How long have I been out of it?"

"A little over a day, which is pretty damn good considering my step-father was ready to fit you with a toe-tag yesterday."

His scowl fades with the reminder of his near-death state.  "Hn, and where are we now?"

"In a clinic that Rey, uh, that is, my step-father owns.  And before you ask, everyone else is here, too.  Cid is the worst off with a busted leg, but Rey thinks everyone will be fine with some bed rest.  He's really impressed with the cure spells you taught me and he's thinking about learning them himself."

Leon exhales a long breath and his body relaxes in short-lived relief at the news that everyone is safe and being tended to.  But once that moment passes, he tilts his head and shows an expression that is openly curious.  "Do you dislike the man that much?"

"Huh...?  What man?"

"Your step-father," he clarifies.  "You keep referring to him as just that, your 'step-father'."

"Oh, that.  It's nothing..."  I stop myself, my hand already reaching for the scar between my eyes and it's impossible to hide the reaction from Leon.  I sigh in resignation and reluctantly recall that I had already promised to tell Leon about this piece of my life, so there's no reason to prolong the inevitable... but only if he wants to hear it.  "It's not what you think.  I like Rey and he's good for my mom... It's a long story."

"Is there a reason why you don't want to tell me?"

"Nah... I already said I would tell you about it.  It's kind of connected to my scar..."

Leon frowns before releasing my hand, the last thing I want as it makes my hand feel painfully empty.  After he sits up on the bed and leans against the headboard, he pats the mattress in a silent demand for me to take the spot closer to him.  Initially surprised by the offer, I move carefully onto the bed, curious if he's setting me up for something nasty, but Leon simply watches me with unguarded interest and patiently waits for the details I'd rather avoid.

When I take too long to say anything, Leon insists, "I want to know you, as much as you have wanted to know me."

I almost laugh at the brunet, wondering if such a thing could possibly be true, but that measure of doubt doesn't change the warming sensation in my chest.  After spending a few more seconds to collect my thoughts, I begin with the important details, "We didn't always live Twilight Town.  Five train stops east of here is a place called Midnight City, which is more of a gutter than a place to live.  My mom grew up there and she was my age when she fell in love with this bastard who got her pregnant... and then used her as an easy punching bag."

My voice goes quiet by that point, too many forgotten memories plaguing my thoughts.  Leon reaches out and wraps his hand around my forearm in a massaging motion, the touch igniting a harsh shiver throughout my body even though the room feels warmer than usual.  Despite the odd reaction to his touch, I appreciate the silent support and start back into the narrative.

"That was the first six years of my life and I don't think Mom realizes how much I remember.  There was hardly a day when she didn't have a bruise somewhere, and shit, there was this one time I hugged her and she cried out in pain.  To this day, I can't bring myself to touch her unless she makes the first move.  I don't know why we stayed with him and she dealt with his abuse.  I guess she had illusions of us becoming a real family some day, but that all ended when the bastard raised a hand to me.  They fought like nothing else, Mom _finally_ telling the prick off, and it was such an amazing sight... but then he got his hands on a knife and went after her..."

Leon squeezes my arm, his eyes calm and cool when he guesses, "You stepped in the way."

I breathe a weak laugh, wondering if it's my fate to continually step into the path of sharp objects.  "I was only six, so it's not like I could think of a better way to protect my mom, but it worked out for the best.  For some reason, having a kid's blood on his hands made the bastard panic and run for the hills.  My mom, meanwhile... Heh, she was _pissed_ at me for getting hurt and called me all sorts of names during the entire ambulance trip, but she held my hand and kissed my fingers with each name."

Leon frowns despite my attempt to lighten the situation, and with his free hand, he brushes his thumb along the scar line I had spent almost a decade trying to hide.  His cooler flesh feels incredible against my heated skin, probably flushed from old emotions.  "I never guessed that this was connected to such terrible memories..."

"It's not all bad," I quickly amend, not liking the soft regret to his voice.  "Rey was a resident or whatever at the hospital back then and he was the one to stitch me up.  His eyes met with my mom's and they haven't looked away since.  He really cares for her, and that's why I don't like calling him 'Dad,' not when I used to call that abusive bastard the same thing.  Rey understands, but he tries to prove me wrong by calling me 'son' all of the time."

"He may understand," Leon murmurs with a certain amount of familiarity, "but that doesn't mean he likes it."  Without any prompting on my part, Leon explains further, "My father... In my other life, I always called him by name, even though I saw how much hurt him.  It's one of my regrets, especially when he turned out to be the only father I've known."

Stunned by the freely given information, I gaze intently into the blue-gray eyes that don't hold the icy shields that I'm accustomed to enduring from the private man.  Openly meeting my stare, Leon moves his hand from my forehead to caress my cheek and brush his thumb against my lips, the rough skin pulling at the softer flesh and creating a variety of sensations that deserve exploration.  As if reading my thoughts, Leon slips his thumb past my lips and gently parts my teeth until stroking the tip of my tongue.

A harsh shudder racks my body and forces me to pull back from the brunet before I accidentally bite off his thumb.  My hands shaky, I cross my arms across my chest in the attempt to hold myself together.  " _Shit_ , of all the times..."

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing _should_ be wrong, but... Damn it, maybe that potion of Strife's was old or something."

A glimmer of silver enters stormy eyes.  "What potion?"

"A revitalizing potion to help keep me awake.  The prick didn't warn me about possible side effects, though," I complain while reaching for the empty vial in my pocket.

Leon doesn't visibly react at the sight of the red glass, but the remoteness to his expression suggests that a flood of thoughts have taken over his mind and there's nothing for me to do except wait for that torrent to end.  Meanwhile, I fidget within my vest that suddenly feels thick and heavy against my skin, a grossly uncomfortable feeling, but I can't bring myself to remove the piece of clothing.  Something is odd about this situation and taking off my clothes doesn't seem like the answer right now.

Leon abruptly snorts, apparently done with his all-encompassing thoughts, and begins to climb out of the bed.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" I demand while stretching across the mattress to grab at the man's shirt, but Leon easily dodges my hand.  "You're supposed to be resting and all of that.  If Aerith and Yuffie see you walking around, they'll break your knees and _keep_ you in bed."

"Then they had better not see me," Leon counters as he steps to the door and locks it with a soft click.

I blink at the act, not entirely confident that either the girls or Strife will be happy to encounter the locked door.  "How exactly is that a plan?"

"There is no such thing as a revitalizing potion, Seifer."

The statement only serves to worsen my confusion.  "What do you mean?  Strife told me..." And then a little light bulb switches on in my head.  "Strife told me what I wanted to hear, didn't he?"

"Well, I suppose 'revitalizing' isn't an incorrect term to use for what he gave you."

"And what exactly _did_ he give me?"

"An aphrodisiac, specifically a potion from Agrabah."  Under his breath, Leon adds an irritated, "Always did hate that place."

I stare at the brunet for a long moment, my mind having a hard time wrapping around the idea that I had been given... that my body was burning because... This isn't good.  "That sort of thing actually exists?"

Leon nods as he returns to stand next to the bed, his stormy-eyed gaze locked with mine.  "You have a few options, but I have to be honest, it's easier to have someone help you."

"But... you're recovering... You _just_ woke up."  I run a shaky hand through my hair, that simple movement causing a flood of hot blood to course throughout my body.  "Can't you just do that cleansing spell thing?  For poisons and the like?"

"Esuna won't work," Leon states bluntly.  When I groan at the fact, he leans forward across the bed and places a hand beneath my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes.  "Are you afraid to trust me?"

The question is so ridiculous that no verbal reply comes to mind; instead, I grab the hand touching my skin and jerk Leon forward enough to press my lips against his.  My entire body burns at the clumsy press, a kiss that Leon thankfully dominates and changes into something that reflects plenty of practice and perfected technique.  My mind is too fuzzy to consider the details of that experience, and even when his hand wraps behind my neck and the cold metal of his ring clinks against my necklace, I moan at the taste and feel of my living obsession.

Though I'm the one who started it, I'm forced to break the connection when my chest demands for more air than what I was getting during the kiss.  Panting from the combined effects of the kiss and potion, I feel like I may pass out at any moment, but that doesn't deter Leon in the least.  Deft hands move to my pants, and as I dumbly look on, Leon undoes the ties and slips a hand between cloth and flesh.

"This will take away the edge," is his warning before grabbing onto my dick.

A groan erupts from my throat, it sounding almost like a sob to my ears as I bend forward and rest my forehead against Leon's shoulder.  I have masturbated before, so it's technically nothing new to have a hand wrapped around my dick, but Leon's hand moves with a type of assurance that is leagues beyond my past experimentation.  With the Griever pendent hanging from my throat and a short distance above my exposed dick, I watch as the ungloved hand pumps in a steady rhythm and sword-born calluses rub in all of the right areas.  It's ultimately too much for my young body to handle, and with a deep grunt, I cum fast and hard in Leon's hand.

Cursing under my breath, I stare hazily at long fingers coated in sticky fluid and wonder what protocol applies to this situation.  An apology seems proper, but I wasn't the one to shove Leon's hand into my pants in the first place.

Not giving me time to dwell on the mater, Leon pushes me down onto the mattress and stares at me with a harsh, assessing edge to his steel-blue eyes.  I almost do apologize at that point, but become quickly tongue-tied when the brunet casually laps at his hand and cleans it much like a preening cat, all the while staring down at me with pale eyes that seem to look right through me.

"Interesting," Leon murmurs after a final, lingering lick to the side of his hand.

I swallow heavily at the sight, and when the man seems to have no intention to clarify his thoughts, I dare to ask, "What's interesting?"

Leon decides that he doesn't need to explain himself, and instead reaches forward to unzip my vest and leave my chest bare to his chilled hands.  He bends down and purposefully kisses the spot just to the left of the Griever pendent that rests above my heart.  I shiver at the stroke of a heavy tongue, and with nothing else in my control, I place a hand at Leon's head and grip at the dark chestnut strands.  When lips and teeth cover a nipple, I gasp out at the spike of pleasure that reminds me of my dosed state.

At the same time he distracts me with his mouth, rough hands slide down my torso until his fingers hook onto the waistline of my pants and briefs.  It's not until the pieces of clothing are about four inches lower than they should be that I realize we're really about to do this.

Smirking at my likely dumbfounded expression, Leon moves back to a seated position and pulls off his shirt with a simple, smooth motion that reveals his battered chest and abs.  It was a sight I hadn't seen in full since the night of Ultimecia's first visitation and it certainly wasn't something I could truly appreciate back then.  While Leon seems to have a slender figure, his clothing hides the tight lines of muscle that gives his body its lean form.  He's stronger than most people would guess at first sight, but I happened to witness him single-handedly kill a T-rex during our first meeting, so I was never under the illusion that Leon was anything except a fighter with terrifying ability.

Leon braces a hand against my chest, and with his thumb touching the chain of the Griever pendent, he announces, "I want you."

Startled by the admission, it's more of an automatic reaction than anything driven by thought when my hand reaches out and settles at the man's waist, the skin warm and pliable compared to the cool, rough flesh of his hands.  Understanding my body's desire, I reply hoarsely, "I want you, too."

Leon shakes his head, dark hair slipping over his bare shoulders.  "You don't understand.  My relationship with my husband was a certain way.  While we shared each other, I mostly gave myself to him."

I frown at the vague terms, not getting his point.  "Are you still talking about sex?"

Amused by the question, Leon smirks lightly.  "Remember our discussion about the circle peg and circle hole theory?"

Feeling my cheeks heat with embarrassment, I pray that it can't be seen given my drugged and flushed state.  "Well, it wasn't really a discussion..."

"No matter," he disregards as he bends down and kisses the side of my neck.  "The problem is this - in the past, I was the 'hole'," he reveals between presses of lips and tongue, and just when Leon carefully bites my scarred ear, he adds, "But right now, I find myself _wanting_ you."

My heart does interesting things at the lustful inflection to his voice, but that is the limit of my reaction as I stare dumbly at the ceiling.  God, Leon's 'circle peg'... Why didn't I ever properly consider what it would mean to be with another man?  All this time, I've been wasting my imagination on Leon accepting me as his partner, but I didn't go into the technicalities of what two lovers are actually supposed to _do_.  What a failure on my part, especially when Leon and the previous me were lovers for years.  How in the world am I supposed to compete with _that?_

When my silence becomes too obvious, Leon sighs into my ear and pulls back to gaze down at me.  "Does that frighten you?"

I stare up at Leon, confused by the question until I realize that there could be another interpretation to my lacking response.  With a weak smile, I correct his misunderstanding.  "The only thing that frightens me is that I won't meet your expectations.  It's not like I know what to do and all that."

Leon blinks slowly in thought, and then moves a hand to stroke the Griever pendent resting on my chest, the touch of his fingertips drawing a quiet groan from my lips.  "Do you think that matters to me?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, Leon, but I haven't learned to read your thoughts, yet."

Blue-gray eyes gain an intense light that reveals more emotion than what is viewable on his face.  "Give yourself time."  Before I have a chance to process the statement made with certainty, Leon slides off the mattress and steps lightly to the cabinets located in the corner.

Confused and somewhat frustrated by the loss of his closeness, I glare after the brunet.  "What are you doing?"

"Looking for usable lubricant," he states plainly while searching through cabinets.  "Before I get back, you should undress or I may do something more damaging to your clothes."

Though his tone is even and controlled, I figure that it would be best to take his words at face value and slip off my already unzipped vest.  My pants and briefs take more effort as I deal with my renewed erection and the awkwardness associated to removing pants while lying on a narrow bed.  By the time I toe off my socks, my breath is ragged and sweat tickles my brow as my drugged induced arousal becomes too demanding.  My hand is on my dick before I think about it and I moan shakily with need as I stroke the heated flesh.

Lost in that sensation, I jump when far cooler flesh covers my hand.

The dark-haired beauty taunts me with a calculating smile, but says nothing of my startled reaction.  Instead he pulls aside my hand while climbing back onto the bed to straddle one of my legs.  He then places an open jar onto my bare stomach, the ceramic cold and reviving as I try to read the label, but the jar is turned such that only the word 'salve' is viewable.

"This will feel strange," Leon assures while dipping his fingers into white cream, "but the aphrodisiac should help with any pain."

Though prepared to argue that no one mentioned anything about pain, my voice is lost when Leon bends down to run his tongue along the length of my erection.  It's a secondary thought when I consider that I had never really cleaned up after the battle against Ultimecia, but that fact doesn't seem to bother Leon in the least as he continues the unexpected attention to my dick.  The press of slick fingers against my asshole is a distant feeling compared to the pleasure from my erection, a touch that seems to feed the potion in my system.  Unlike the first time, though, my climax is held out of reach as heated desire burns my blood and makes me pant in need.

As forewarned, the entrance of his finger is an odd sensation that initially prompts me to squirm in a vague attempt of escape, but Leon grabs my thigh in a hard grasp and keeps me in place.  His stormy eyes are lightly scolding as his finger goes deeper and coats my anus with cool cream.  Beyond vocal capabilities by that point, I let Leon do what he wants, but also lift my hips in a clear suggestion that I want more of his mouth.  He humors me with a slight curl to his lips.

A flood of sensations overtakes me at that point, and though there is increasing discomfort at the entry of two and then three fingers, there is something... _else_ that teases me with the intrusive touch.  I hear myself being driven to desperate whimpers, only wanting a final break in the pressure that Leon has brought upon me.  Without warning, his mouth wraps around the head of my dick and the tip of his tongue strokes at the special spot located just below there.

My release comes impossibly harder with this second time around, causing the entire length of my body to tense in a hard arch.  For several breathless seconds, I can't relax and can't think, which is a surprisingly frightening state in the midst of overwhelming pleasure.  Leon quickly sits up and rubs a hand at my stomach to calm down my body, the hints of a cure spell slipping from his fingers.  Whichever does the trick, I manage to slump back into the mattress and take a deep breath that causes a series of harsh coughs.  By the time I recover, Leon is leaning over me with a worrisome hardness to his eyes, as if ready to cause serious harm to a body.

"I'm alright," I assure in a raspy voice, my breathing still a little off.

"You aren't," Leon states coolly.  "It shouldn't have been that intense."

I chuckle hoarsely and suggest, "Maybe that's your fault."

Leon huffs, obviously not appeased at my reaction that was intensified by Strife's potion, but I have no intention to feed his lust for revenge.  Well, at least not right now.  My bodily desires temporarily sated and my mind once again my own, I reach out and hook my fingers around the belts of Leon's pants.

"Won't these get in the way?"

An odd look crossing his face, Leon grabs my wrist in a firm hold, but doesn't pull my hand away as I would expect.

"... Leon?"

He bows his head, dark hair covering his eyes as he avoids my gaze.  "There are things I haven't told you, things I would rather never tell you.  This is one of those things."

Confused and a little frustrated, I ask him, "Do you think I can't handle it?"

Leon smirks at the question.  "No, I have no doubt of that... but I still dislike causing you pain."

While I try to sort out what Leon could be implying, he slips off the mattress and casually undoes his collection of belts before reaching the button and fly beneath.  With a grace unique to the gunblade master, Leon removes his pants to reveal the last part of the man I have yet to see, even though the brunet has witnessed my naked body on several occasions by now.  My eyes are immediately attracted to the proof of Leon's interest in our current situation, his dick hard and curved upward with a slight bend to the right that seems an anomaly for the perfectionist.  Entranced, I place my hand around his length for a better look, and with that extra weight, the top of his penis becomes viewable.

"It wasn't your fault."  Leon's controlled statement makes me wonder what expression I'm showing, but it ultimately doesn't matter.

"How is this _not_ my _fault?_   Those are my _fucking_ **_initials_** ," I say while unable to look away from the jagged scars shaped into the letters 'S.A.'.

Placing his hand on top of mine, Leon says quietly, "This is a sample of what would have happen if Ultimecia was allowed to rule."

"Do you mean... the guy who became your husband--"

" _No,_ he kept me alive.  The one who did this was another life, a life where I couldn't stop her from taking him."

Stunned by that information, I can only ask, "How many lives do you remember?"

"More than I should," is Leon's cryptic response.

While the answer isn't satisfying, I also have my first touch of understanding that Leon has gone through more than what the average person could handle and still remain strong.  My eyes focused on his penis, I thoughtlessly brush my thumb over the crooked and jagged version of an 'A'.  Leon inhales at the touch, a harsh breath that ends with a quiet groan that isn't distinct as either a sound of pain or one of pleasure.

Licking my lips in nervousness, I look up at Leon for the first time since seeing the scars and ask the inevitable question - "Does it hurt?"

Dark hair still covering his eyes, a weird chuckle leaves Leon.  "No, I hardly think about it anymore, but it seems whenever _you_ touch it..."

When he doesn't finish his thought, it's up to me to determine his meaning.  Though I have a feeling he would've stopped me from doing something that would hurt him, I need to see the answer for myself.  I lift my other hand to brush aside dark chestnut and reveal closed eyes as Leon continues to avoid me.  I whisper his name in a soft demand, and though his eyelids initially squeeze tighter, Leon eventually reveals his eyes that hold an entrancing wild light that I've only seen from the man during battles.  It reminds me of the first spar I witnessed between him and Strife, when the blond soldier forced Leon to save me or watch me die.

"I'm strange..."

I nearly choke out a laugh at the fighter's admission.  "Then it's a good thing we're both a little touched in the head," I say while moving my hand to my right ear and think about how it feels whenever Leon places his lips to the scarred flesh.

His hand joining mine, Leon brushes a finger at the ragged edge of my ear and he slowly smiles in a manner that matches his eyes.  "Hn, some things never change."

With those words said, Leon slides his hand to my jaw and lifts my chin forward to create a better angle for his kiss.  It's a gentle press at first and somewhat clumsy as Leon moves back onto the bed and straddles over me.  I gasp at the feel of flesh upon flesh, never before imagining the rather vulnerable, but amazingly intimate sensation associated to having no physical barriers in the way.  Taking advantage of my opened mouth, Leon deepens the kiss into something more demanding and I'm promptly reminded to respect his teeth.  In the meantime, his hands massage down my chest and along my sides until grabbing at my waist.  With me pinned to the mattress, he grinds his groin against mine in an unhurried rhythm that feeds the potion in me for a third time, but with a softer burn than before.

Leon pulls away after a lingering bite to my lower lip and smirks at me before bending down to take my nipple into his mouth.  The attention of his teeth on sensitive flesh distracts me long enough for Leon to place his hands at my thighs, but the lifting of my legs is a bit too obvious to go unnoticed.  I had somewhat forgotten about the previous preparation Leon had put me through and I immediately tense up at the sign that Leon hadn't forgotten in the least.  Though hard to tell, I think Leon smirks when finishing his play with my nipple.

"Relax and breathe," is the only advice the master gunblader offers before pressing his dick to my hole, and shit, that thing feels so much bigger than it looks.

Leon slides in more easily than I could have anticipated, but the burn of stretching causes my breath to halt and I close my eyes while dealing with the invasion.  A hand cups my cheek and my eyes snap open to stare up at Leon, who frowns lightly in concern.  Seeing him and realizing that he had stopped moving forward, I dare to attempt a breath that is shallow and shaky as I cope with Leon buried within me.

Though the worry doesn't quite leave his eyes, Leon moves his hand to my mouth and his thumb pulls on my lower lip before he initiates a deep kiss that encourages me to accept everything he is giving me.  The first time he pulls back and slides forward, I end up holding my breath yet again as I try to understand the odd sensations caused by his dick.  After another few times, my world is twisted by an unexpected spike of pleasure, and judging by Leon's smirk, he knows exactly what I'm experiencing.  The second time that happens, I wrap my arms around his back and brace my hands between his shoulder blades, needing a solid anchor against the wave of pleasure that rushes forward to my head and flows back toward my groin.

While the potion continues to serve its purpose, it doesn't have the same flare as before and I have a suspicious feeling that little of this pleasure is due to the aphrodisiac.  It's both an encouraging and slightly worrisome realization, but I don't have the luxury of concentration as Leon increases his speed and strength when I prove my flexibility to handle it.  At one point, I taste blood and open my eyes to realize that I had bitten Leon's scarred shoulder and broke into his skin.  The dark-haired fighter groans at the injury, but not from pain; instead, his eyes gain more of that wild light and he smiles in deep satisfaction.

The room dissolves into little more than basic sensations of heated pleasure and unfulfilled lust.  The already familiar pull of climax taunts me as I cling onto Leon.  Soft grunts from the brunet slowly begin to gain clarity as my name being spoken in an almost pleading mantra, but it's the addition of a growled 'my Knight' that snaps the last restraint within me.  I bury my fingernails into the pale skin of his back when the final rush of release overwhelms me, my cry short with my breath already shallow and lacking.  Leon abruptly arches upward and I feel his blood pooling under my nails, but there's nothing I can do about it as I ride out the wave of electrified pleasure.

Harsh, shaky breaths fill the room as Leon and I seem to find a rhythm with each other, him inhaling as I exhale.  Leon is somewhat propped by his bent arm above my head, but he mostly lies on top of my body and rests his forehead against my shoulder.  A series of quiet curses eventually sounds from Leon and I wince at the idea that my carelessness had caused the man more harm than I thought.  I move my hand to one set of the scratches on his back and draw on the necessary energy to form a cure spell, but Leon pushes my arm aside.

"Don't heal it," he demands in a hoarse whisper.

"But... doesn't it hurt?"

Leon lifts his head and grins with a mischievous curl of lips.  "What do you think?"

I frown, realizing that it did sound a bit strange for the master gunblader to be irritated by a few scratches.  "You don't sound too happy, though."

Losing his smile, Leon huffs and places his head back at my shoulder, the angle muffling whatever answer he gives.

"What was that again?"

Leon sighs bitterly and shifts his head to repeat, "I'm getting old."

" _Old?_   Give me a fucking break, you're not even thirty yet.  How is that _old?_ "

He scoffs and argues, "I used to be able to fight and fuck without problem.  Right now, I can hardly move."

My eyes blinking in disbelief, I remind him, "You were basically _dead_ yesterday and you think that you can just bounce back as if nothing had happened?"

Stormy blues stare back at me, his gaze suggesting that he doesn't give the excuse of his death much weight in this matter.

Before I can consider a helpful way of calling Leon an idiot, a rapid series of knocks sounds from the hallway and the locked doorknob rattles.  Aerith's voice is clearly heard as she demands to know what is happening and comments on the sounds of groans, something she determines is a sign that Leon is deteriorating and requires a healer.  She doesn't get a response, however, when she abruptly snaps at another person, her complaints identifying Strife as an interfering force beyond the door.  Her voice soon fades even as she continues to criticize Strife for interfering when Leon could be in serious pain, the soldier apparently pushing her down the hallway.

Leon breathes out a curse before pushing up onto his knees and carefully pulling out from me.  The slick sounds that come from that area makes me cringe, but without allowing a word or action from me, Leon grabs a nearby sheet and covers the both of us as he squeezes next to me on the narrow bed.

Surprised and a little confused with the dark-haired beauty draped at my side, I comment dully, "Aerith will be back, you know."

"Strife will keep them away until we're ready," Leon states with certainty.  "I'm worn out and need more sleep.  The others can wait."

I bend my arm and rake my fingers into his hair.  "Sorry, I didn't--"

Leon icy glare immediately silences me.  "Don't think for a moment it's your fault.  Strife should've known better than to use something that strong."  His gaze softening just slightly, he questions, "Do you still feel it in your system?"

After a moment to get a sense of my body, I reply with some surprise, "The heat isn't there like before."

Leon nods as if knowing that would be the case.  "Magic tends to like the number three."

Too tired to be embarrassed about coming three times due to Leon's manipulations, I rest lazily as my hand drifts from dark hair, down the length of his arm, and to the hand bearing the golden ring that feels oddly cool between my fingertips.  The sheet over us keeps away the chill of drying sweat, but more importantly, it gives Leon a measure of privacy as he wraps an arm at my waist and lazily rubs his thumb along my hip.  It's a calm moment that we haven't had the luxury to experience before this and I can relate to Leon's desire to enjoy every last second.

Half asleep and thinking out loud, I inform Leon, "I still need to introduce you to my parents."

He hums in reply, and adds something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, "Need to make an honest man of you."

Grinning at the thought, I rest my head against his and close my eyes with the relief of knowing that I can fall asleep and Leon will still be here.  He isn't a vision or a dream, but a living man at my side, and there will finally be a certain tomorrow.

* * *

[Epilogue]

[Squall]

With the warm smells of hot fudge and waffle bowls still in the air, chocolate-smeared plates and licked-clean spoons decorate the counter and tables of Aerith's small cafe, those being the last signs of the massive sundaes made by the joint efforts from Seifer and Aerith.  Though the desserts were long gone, an assortment of people remain in the close quarters that were used for a simple welcome home party mixed with undertones of a victory celebration, the latter applying to those of us who actually knew there was a universal threat that existed only a week ago.

The usual sort has stuck around: Cid freely abuses his knee injury to gain a few kisses from the local ladies, Yuffie recounts our fight against the monster scorpion to a younger group who wanted to hear it for the eighth time, and Aerith continues to play the perfect hostess even this late into the night.  While Zack is present and assumedly enjoying the company, Cloud managed to avoid the party in its entirety with one excuse or another.  Aerith wasn't exactly clear about it, much to Zack's unconcealed disappointment and irritation.  It has been the same story during the week-long stay in Twilight Town and I don't foresee it changing much given Cloud's apparent mental block when it comes to the former Knight.

Since the beginning of the party, Seifer has been basically out of reach, the young man constantly surrounded by several members of the construction crew he had grown attached to in the past months.  Of largest note is a gruff, wolf-like figure who was one of the two people saved by Seifer's stupid heroics during the building collapse weeks ago.  In his beefy arms, the wolf carries two small pups, a pair of twins who wouldn't have known their sire without Seifer's fast thinking.  Earlier in the night, the wolf declared that one of his sons had been named after Seifer, and when subsequently asked which one, the wolf jokingly replied that it was the one with a lopsided ear.

All in all, the get-together has been a greatly needed release after the trip to Agrabah and the final battle in Twilight Town, and I can't remember a sundae tasting sweeter than the one I had tonight.

With nothing else to offer, I begin collecting the dishes and trash that had been left behind.  Seifer notices this at one point and tries to stand up to help me, but Cid and the wolf are hardly ready to let the teen run off before he finishes his third retelling of the battle against Ultimecia.  Cid in particular gets a good laugh every time Seifer says he woke me with a kiss.  I'm allowing it for now because everyone needs this happier time, but once Cid's leg heals, we're going to have a little talk that may put him back into a cast.

It takes three trips to gather all of the dishes, and finding refuge in the backroom, I take my time washing the dishes that are all decorated with some type of flower.  With no chatter to distract me, I think about our last days in Twilight Town and the one meeting with both of Seifer's parents.  While Seifer's step-father had sat with us on many occasions, his mother kept her distance until she learned from Renaud that Seifer was planning to leave Twilight Town within the week.  It apparently astonished her that Seifer hadn't returned to Twilight Town for good.

Serena Trepe wouldn't look at me during the entire meeting, but doted upon her son without a hint of love lost for the teen.  It wasn't until after she left without a promise from Seifer to stay that we learned from Renaud that, while Twilight Town didn't seem to recognize homosexual relationships as a possibility, Midnight City considered such relationships on the same level of prostitution, that it was okay to cheat on a wife as long as the other person was a man, and vise versa.  It seemed Serena considered me little more than a paying customer who had little care for Seifer beyond a physical role and I was prepared to hand her boy off to the next interested party.  Despite Seifer's hope otherwise, I doubt she will readily change her mind about me, especially when my golden ring was in plain view during our meeting.

"How long are you going to wash that one plate?"

Breaking out of distracting thoughts, I look to the side and find Aerith watching me with an amused expression.  I then glance at my hands and realize that I been scrubbing the same plate with yellow roses for a while now.  Without answering Aerith, I rinse the suds from the dish and set it onto a drying rack before moving to the next plate.

Aerith laughs lightly and moves to my side with a towel in hand, prepared to dry the dishes I had managed to finish.  "Would you like to share those deep thoughts?"

I rinse a large mug and hand it to her.

Undaunted, she takes the item and wipes it down.  "I have to admit, I was a little surprised that Seifer came with us.  After all, with Ultimecia gone, there's no reason for him to continue living under your protection.  I thought he may want to stay with his family and friends, especially when he has a nicer life there compared to what we can offer here."

My teeth clench at the words that are clearly meant to discover my intentions when it comes to Seifer.  While the teen has no desire to hide his objectives in life, I don't have that same disregard for privacy.  Even so, I thought the matter would be closed with Seifer wearing my Griever necklace on a daily basis.

"Do you realize how much he loves you?"

I huff at the question which isn't as surprising as Aerith intended it to be.  "He's young.  Falling in love is easier than falling down a set of stairs for his sort."

"You don't believe that," Aerith scolds, but the shift of her eyes indicates a measure of uncertainty on her part.

Without replying to her one way or another, I continue on the stack of dishes that have reached the halfway point.  Aerith frowns at my silence, but isn't daunted by my tactics that would have sent most other people stalking away in irritation.  She accepts the next plate with true patience and slowly wipes away the water while considering her next move.

The silence doesn't last long, however, when Seifer appears at the doorway, his expression suggesting that he had spent more than a few minutes trying to find me.  He exhales a breath when seeing that I didn't leave him behind, a new fear of his since the battle against Ultimecia.  I can't blame him much, but when one of his eyebrows lifts into a curious arch, I'm quickly reminded that Seifer can be blamed for many other things.

"You're... doing dishes."

While I frown at his tone, Aerith laughs lightly and explains, "The two of us have a deal - I let Leon help with the dishes as long as he never again tries to help me with cooking."

"Did you say 'again'?" Seifer asks, his lips curling with interest.

"Well, let's put it this way," Aerith says as gently as she can, "that stove isn't my first one."

A burst of air escapes Seifer before he settles with his usual free laughter, including his head thrown back and strong arms wrapped around his stomach.  On some level, I know that I should be angry with the teen, maybe even embarrassed at being ridiculed for one particular failure in my life, but lately, his laughter has been a rare occurrence, particularly when I'm around to hear it.  It's nothing against me; simply, there's little to find amusing between our spars and fighting against the evils out there.  Cid and his crew, on the other hand, constantly abuse their greater luxury to enjoy the little moments in life.

"Oh man, it's hard to believe that you suck at something," Seifer comments while wiping tears from his eyes.

I shrug, unconcerned about the vast misconception that I'm perfect at everything I do.

Grinning like the fool he is, Seifer steps to my side and leans back against the wide sink.  "I guess it's a good thing that I like cooking.  You'd probably starve without Aerith around."

"I have survived just fine on my own," I reply tersely, not liking his assumption that I'm completely helpless in the kitchen.  Destructive, maybe, but not helpless.

Green eyes shine with mischievous light as Seifer leans closer.  "Have you really?"

It's a loaded question, one I'm not prepared to answer when the blond is this close and his smirk is horribly inviting.  It would be... inconvenient to kiss Seifer when watchful eyes are upon us, even if the demonstration would prove to Aerith that I have deeper feelings for Seifer than most of the group can imagine, or in a couple cases, _want_ to imagine.  Still, the desire is there and it is simpler to relieve the need, rather than suppress it.

"I'll show you," I eventually say in response.  "Fetch our blades and I'll meet you at the entrance to the Great Maw."

Seifer's smirk broadens with anticipation.  "Another lesson?"

"Until you finally learn something."

Chuckling, Seifer turns to leave, but makes certain to brush his hand against my hip such that the move goes unnoticed by Aerith.  Cocky brat, he needs to be taught his place in this relationship before things start to slip too far out of my control.  While it can be interesting to give into Seifer's whims on occasion, it's better to not make it a habit.

"You're smiling, you know."

Startled by the statement, I look at Aerith, but the woman doesn't meet my eyes while innocently drying a large mug I had washed earlier.  I eventually huff at her observation and hand her a cleaned plate as my sign that I don't care what she thinks she knows.  She smiles in that special way which makes her aura visible for anyone to see and continues to dry dishes as I pick up the pace to finish the dwindling stack.  If Aerith notices the more rapid pace, she doesn't comment.

Once the task is done, I head back through the seating area, the cafe still packed with residents of Radiant Garden and a few bottles of beer that weren't here earlier.  Aerith is going to have her hands full trying to get rid of this lot.  Waving my goodbye and ignoring the complaints from Cid and Yuffie that it was too early for me to leave, I step out into the night air and look up at the full moon that seems larger than normal.  My eyes automatically scan the rest of the starlit sky, but there's no sign of a dark star or any other worrisome omen.  For once, it's a peaceful night.

"How long are you going to stand there?"

I glance back at the blond teen, Seifer leaning against the outer wall of the cafe with Helios strapped to his waist and Lion Heart resting against his shoulder.  "I thought I told you to meet me at the Maw."

"I know what you told me.  I decided to meet you here."

I take note of the teen's flushed cheeks, short breaths, and other signs of his rush to get our blades and return to the cafe before I left.  He's trying too hard to keep me under his watch, that's for certain, but it has only been a week.  I'll give him a few more days before reminding him that I'm over a decade older than him and perfectly able to take care of myself.

The walk to the barrier around Radiant Garden is a relatively silent one, the only exception being Seifer's apparent desire to hum a tune I haven't heard before.  I can only assume it's a song from Twilight Town and he was somehow reminded of it during our short week there.  It's yet another reminder that Seifer comes from a different place and a different time, and while I normally wouldn't place that much emphasis on it, Aerith's words have unfortunately stuck with me.  This world isn't Seifer's and he has no other reason to stay here except for me and the responsibilities that tie me to Radiant Garden, responsibilities that aren't his to share.

Similar thoughts cloud my mind for the rest of the walk, and only Seifer's hum pierces through the haze.  I hardly notice the passage of half-built structures and cliff walls until the electric smell of Merlin's barriers assaults my senses.  Squinting to adjust my vision, I gaze up at the basically invisible barrier, only the occasional flicker of white magic showing the presence of a wall that keeps most monsters out of the city.

"What's the plan?" Seifer asks, Helios pulled from its sheath and held at the teen's shoulder.

"We spar."

Seifer frowns lightly at the idea.  "We spar... in monster infested land... at night."

My lips slide into a smile at the idea, and with Lion Heart's hilt heavy in my hand, I step through the barriers that will allow passage to any person who doesn't hold darkness in their heart.  Admittedly, it was one of the first tests Zack was put through to prove that his status of Knight was nothing more than coincidence and not something he desired.  The pirate never knew of the trial, even though everyone was watching.

Seifer hurries to move by my side, his eyes wide and pale in the moonlight.  "Are you planning to get me killed with this lesson?"

"You'll be fine," I assure as I break away from the teen and turn to point Lion Heart at his chest.  "Raise your blade."

Instinctual fear eventually fades from Seifer, the base emotion quickly replaced by a deep hunger to meet any challenge I throw at him.  He fiddles with the trigger of his gunblade, but it's an idle threat - the teen's aim is worse than lousy and he tends to telegraph his shot by closing his left eye when aiming.  He has another lifetime ahead of him before his bullets can touch me.

As if reading my thoughts, Seifer smirks and opens his stance slightly before launching forward in his typical bold attack.  Our blades connect with a harsh clang, and when I shift backward with his strike, the teen quickly adjusts his footing to account for the unexpected move.  Even so, he doesn't react fast enough to avoid a punch to his side.  He grunts at the attack and bends his arm in the attempt to elbow me in the face, but by that point, I've already jumped back a pace and well out of his reach.

Our spar continues with a similar story as I force Seifer deeper into the Great Maw.  An occasional Heartless appears, most of which including the larger sorts that dislike the burn of sunlight.  I step aside at those points, forcing Seifer to handle what he can while I limit myself to a spell or two when necessary to keep the blond alive and in one piece.  When the monsters ultimately fall to Helios' edge, I allow Seifer a moment of victory before our spar begins anew.  It's a taxing request of the young gunblader, but he doesn't complain once about my unfairness or his being too tired and hurt to continue.  No, if anything, his eyes become firmer with the need to prove the worthiness of his existence to me.

Strength of will aside, Seifer gradually loses the finesse necessary to dodge attacks and properly enact weapon strategy.  Though his body is against him, the teen continues to put all of this strength into every strike and I'm reminded why I never had a chance against him: my defenses weren't built to withstand the daily assaults of Seifer's straightforward and brutal attacks.

It's on the rocky path to a safe zone that Seifer stumbles and I take immediate advantage of the situation.  Lion Heart flashes with the dark light of night when it slides perfectly between Helios' blade and barrel.  It only takes a sharp turn of my wrist to disarm Seifer, and as he wastes time cursing, I slip my leg behind his and knock out his knee to force the taller man to the ground.  He grunts at his rough landing, but is quickly silenced when Lion Heart finds its place just above his Adam's apple and presses against vulnerable flesh.

Nothing is said for a long minute and Seifer swallows carefully when the steady blade doesn't move.  "... Leon...?"

"Is this what you want?" I ask, angling Lion Heart such that blood is drawn and oozes down golden skin.  "To live a life that is constantly threatened?  To be uncertain when or how your life will end, except for the knowledge that you won't die old?"

His tenseness fades with a chuckle and Seifer smiles while looking up at me.  "Shit, do you always worry about stupid things like that?"

"This isn't a joke, Seifer."

"It never is with you," he comments, no longer concerned by the blade at his throat.  "Listen, I haven't given up anything by coming here.  Yeah, I have good friends in Twilight Town and I love my family, but...  _This_ matters more."

I sigh at the easy reply and argue, "You don't even understand what 'this' is."

Seifer smiles secretively and shakes his head as best he can.  "But I do."

"You can't be certain about that."

Without losing that quiet smile, Seifer hesitates before saying, "Listen, I wasn't going to tell you about this, but... There was an explosion after the fight, and while most of it was basically white magic, there were these feathers that dropped from the sky.  I kind of grabbed one of them and somehow pictured me, or rather the not-me standing next to you during all sorts of scenarios.  It made sense."  He lifts a hand to the Griever pendent and fingers the rough edges of the metal.  "It _makes_ sense."

My vision wavers briefly at the idea that Seifer had come in contact with the same type of feather I saw touch Zack and give him the memory of Cloud's name.  It had done nothing more for the confused man, but maybe... "Do you remember anything else?"

Seifer scoffs at the question.  "Just some stuff about Rinoa, but she purposefully kept the rest from me.  Apparently, she thinks it'll be more fun for us to start over with loving each other."

I struggle against the rush of lost hope, but staring into attentive green eyes, I find myself again and remember Griever's words that Seifer is my other half.  The details don't seem to matter so much with that in mind.

Lowering Lion Heart, I scold lightly, "You shouldn't live your life based on one person."

"Even if there is no life without that person?" Seifer asks while standing and facing me.

"You're too young for that kind of talk."

"And next you'll tell me that you're too old to hear it."

Impressed by his boldness, I smirk and grab his wrist to pull the teen into the safe zone that is little more than a tunnel which connects two sections of the Great Maw.  Despite the enclosure of thick stone, magically lit crystals brighten the cavern and emit a natural form of energy that wards away stray monsters.  I shove Seifer against a wall and silence his mouth with a hard kiss that drives a groan from the teen, one that holds little of the pain he must be feeling.  I slide a leg between his and press my thigh up against his groin, causing Seifer to gasp and unfortunately break the kiss.

"Fuck, I thought you were trying to chase me away."

I bend down and lap at the blood decorating his throat.  "Since when has that worked?"

Seifer laughs at my tone, but speaks seriously when saying, "This is my choice, Leon, and you can't stop me."

I straighten at the statement and direct an incredulous glare at the teen for suggesting that I have no options when it comes to this relationship.

Admirably, he doesn't wince under my gaze, but instead grabs my left hand and lifts it to his mouth for a gentleman's kiss.  "One day, you'll have a second ring on your finger, something that will complement this old, scratched up thing.  What do you think about silver?"

My mind empty of thoughts, I stare at the shameless blond and struggle with the need to offer an argument.  Unfortunately, the only information that emerges is how this Seifer has become more attentive to the simple golden band, stroking it much like my husband would after sex and when just waking in the morning.

"I'm not proposing anything right now," Seifer assures with a sharp gleam to his eyes.  "I still have a lot of things to figure out, and a lot more to prove.  But one day, when you can't refuse me, I'll make my pledge to you."

There's nothing really to say, especially when I can practically feel the strands of Fate twining between us and creating an impossible knot.  Twisting my hand still in Seifer's hold, I brush my fingers along his jaw before I lean in and lightly press my lips against the corner of his mouth.  He tries to deepen the kiss, but I pull back and pat his cheek with a condescending touch.

"Do your best, Almasy.  I've been waiting too long for you to ruin this."

Though surprise passes over his expression, Seifer smiles with confidence of old.  "You're not going to help me make this happen, are you?"

"Not one bit."

His smile broadening, Seifer wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me hard against his body.  "Good.  You make me nervous when you take it easy on me."

"Hn, is that so?" I murmur before warning him lightly, "Then, I suppose you had better be prepared for Hell."

 

{Owari}

 

Author's Whining -- And another fic is DONE. *joy*  It's so nice finishing these epics and being free to move onto another world and another story.  Of course, I will be revisiting GR:NP for a side fic about Cloud and Zack, but it's different than having another huge chapter to write. ;)  I hope you enjoyed the ride with this story.  It's hard to believe it started a couple years ago with a vague mission to try NanoWriMo, and ended like most of my stories do - a year too late and dripping with sap. *laugh*

BTW, Gnome, this story ending doesn't give you permission to throw another bunny at me.  I have enough, thank you. ;)


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